


Let there be gingers

by timtom



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Comedy, Domestic Avengers, Drama, F/F, F/M, Family, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Huge developments, In which people are pregnant, Kid Fic, Pregnancy, Romance, and it's hella cute, before all of the sequel movies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-09
Updated: 2014-12-08
Packaged: 2017-11-28 16:40:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 33
Words: 41,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/676588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timtom/pseuds/timtom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the organization of SHIELD, it's considered strange to realize that their operatives who are killers, spies and beings in ownership of superpowers do regular things that civilians do, like read magazines, or bake muffins, or even ... have children. So what happens when Natasha Romanoff and Pepper Potts are both pregnant ... at the same time?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The news

**Author's Note:**

> So this sparked from a an idea that me and my friend had about how adorable it would be if Pepper and Natasha were both pregnant. Let's just say we were very excited and all that and I was given the job to make it a real thing.
> 
> By the way for those of you wondering how I just uploaded a crap ton of chapters in one go and suspecting me of stealing this off some unknown little genius from the internet - I've had this story for a bit on a different website, and I reckoned it was easier to just upload it all now than keep you call in suspense week after week. All my work from chapter 8 will be in real time (me uploading after I write it)

Surprisingly enough, it was Tony, not Clint, who first found out about Natasha's news. Clint had gone AWOL on a mission when he was carried away by the river's current and woke up more than twenty kilometers from his pickup area, wet, cold, without reserves and badly injured. Natasha had asked around with the team, with Steve stating simply _I don't know how you can't find him with this extraordinary tiny phone you guys have_ ,Bruce offering a soft word of _sorry no I haven't seen him, maybe you should ask Tony_ and Tony having no idea but hanging onto her worry like a sloth hanging onto a doughnut.

"What's wrong?" He pried when she sighed in frustration and was about to go pester Fury.

"Nothing." She waved him away, striding to the elevator. But Tony followed behind her like a puppy dog, putting his drink on the counter.

"No really, Miss Romanoff." He barred her way. "If this is really something serious, I swear – girl scout's honor – I will put on my suit and drag him back myself."

Under normal circumstances, Natasha would've easily maimed him and moved him out of the way, and would be on her way by now. But right now, something inside Natasha's high functioning brain wasn't functioning so highly anymore, and she thought it would be better to have the help.

"Stark. You can't tell anyone. Not even Clint. I have to tell him myself." She said. Tony made a sign to cross his heart.

"Okay. I won't tell anyone."

"Stark. I'm pregnant." And it just came out like that. It just sounded heavy, and flat, and Tony spat his drink out. Natasha's eyes fell to the floor and it stayed there as Tony tried to muster some words to say.

"Uh … pregnant? As in having a baby. As in human coming out of a human? With Cupid?"

Natasha hit him, and then Tony filed for a leave with Fury so he could go find Clint and bring him back. Of course, he had to tell Fury the real reason why he had to go himself, after several well planned _Oh but I've always loved the guy, I'm just a bit worried is all_ and Fury had to give _his_ girl scout's honor that he won't tell anyone.

So that was why by the time Clint got back, he was wondering why so many people were looking at him funny. With a look that sort of said _you rat bastard_ and – no wait, a look that said you _lucky_ rat bastard. He found Natasha in her room, reading one of her enigmatic Russian books; probably about how to skin a cow with your bare hands – and when he kissed her it felt weird, like she wasn't really concentrating.

"Listen, we need to talk." She said when he leaned back. He sat on her bed as she scooted her knees to give him space. He gave her the go-ahead even though a part of him shrieked at him that it was over, simply over between them. She gave the news, Clint didn't say anything, and then Natasha asked him if he had any burgers with pickles in them, because she could really go for one at the moment.

Around about the same time as this was happening, Tony was stepping out of his armor at Stark tower, greeting a nervous looking Pepper.

"What's wrong?" He murmured as he went to fix himself a drink. Pepper smoothed down her pastel pencil skirt, sat down on the white couch, and patted the seat next to her. He sat, gave her a soft look and took her hand.

She smiled nervously. "Tony, you know I love you, don't you?"

Tony rolled him eyes. "Okay what did I do now? If it was the Boston paper work it was Dummy. I was not in control of the blow torch at any point in time." He waved his hand. Pepper frowned, but decided to ignore him, and bring him back to topic.

"No, it's just … Well. You're kind of too good … at _it_."

Tony gave her a confused look and Pepper took a deep breath. "I'm a punctual person. You know that, right?"

"Yeah, of course. I mean if you knew exactly when you died you would probably make that time. But come to think of it you can't really be late since you're dying…"

"I mean punctual in _every_ aspect. And Tony … I'm late." She said. There was a pause as Tony's face wasn't yet touched by realization. " _Late_ late, Tony." Still no recognition. "What's the one thing about my body that I can't control?"

Suddenly Tony became animated, and his face forming perfect _O_ s before they went back to gasping for words to say, his eyes wider than the full moon. "Does this mean you're – are you – Pepper are you pregnant?" He nearly yelled. Pepper only nodded with a soft smile. He picked her up and began to swing her around and he sang and he danced and laughed and then he put her down because he figured that wouldn't be good for the baby.

"I mean, I haven't done the test yet, but since I've been late for about two weeks, I'm pretty sure." Pepper said, brushing her hair behind her ear. Tony danced around again, jumping and singing like a school child, before getting extremely exhausted and collapsing onto the couch. Pepper sat by him and fanned him because his forehead was beginning to sheen with sweat.

"Wow, just … wow." He murmured, still smiling. Pepper smiled back. "Two birds with one stone."

Pepper frowned. "What do you mean?" Tony sat up abruptly.

"Oh you don't know." He grinned. "Natasha's pregnant too."


	2. A feeling

If you thought a regular pregnant woman was bad, it would pretty much suck for you to be any form of male around Natasha Romanoff while she was pregnant. See, after so many years of repressed wants and self discipline, her overflow of hormones has completely overridden Natasha's self control, and even though Clint was more than happy to help keep her comfortable, there were some things that made this whole experience quite interesting.

For one, Natasha had no control over her emotions for the first three or four months, which meant every time she asked you to get her a specific food, she will start crying if she had stopped craving it by the time you get it to her. If you can't get your hands on some at all, she will get very mad, and start throwing things. But, if you are very lucky and you get everything right, she will be so grateful and thankful you will be feeling sorry for ever putting her in this position.

Occasionally, one specific side effect of this pregnancy would surface, and Clint would be more than happy to take care of it. See, occasionally, when the barred gates of emotions would overflow while Natasha was on her period, Clint had to keep her from jumping on the rest of the team. Luckily, he's gotten so good at this during his previous years being partners with her, that none of the guys have notice yet. But if you thought period horny Natasha was extreme, then pregnant horny Natasha was going to blow your mind.

Pepper on the other hand, was put on off duty while she was pregnant on Tony's orders. So she's taken to cooking whatever fancied her. The only problem was that she would cook copious amounts of it, eat a small portion, and then immediately crave something else. Pretty soon Tony's grocery bill was stacking up to an impressive amount, and he had a extensive array of delicacies at his disposal.

She wasn't as emotional as Natasha, but when she was in the weepy mood, she would be spurred on by the fact that Tony wasn't around to comfort her, and sell stocks as a therapeutic activity. Now that Pepper wasn't actually taking proper care of Tony's stocks and finances, Stark Industries was on the edge of a pretty extreme dive down into bankruptcy, and so Tony gave Pepper the task of finding him a new " _whatever-it-was-that-you-did-so-well_ " en quote.

The new whatever-it-was-that-you-did-so-well was a middle aged brunette called Nancy Lansdale. She was extremely qualified, and Pepper wondered if Tony would even want to fire her when she had the child. So then Stark Industries was saved, but only just, because now Nancy had to put out a separate account of shares for Pepper to sell, since she insisted upon it and closed every argument with Nancy with _who's the pregnant one here_? Tony wondered several times why she didn't just emphasize that she _owned_ Stark Industries, but then Pepper would slap him on the arm and offer him fondue.

But during the first few weeks, both women went through periods of doubt and panic. The idea of being pregnant was grim in Natasha's mind. She couldn't exactly go back into the field while she was pregnant, especially not in the later months. She wasn't sure Clint would let her, either, and maybe even Tony, come to think of it. Her emotional range was now wider than that of possibly any sentient being on earth, and with every outburst she had – whether it be of anger, sadness, glee or affection – would quickly be ensued by a pang of regret and embarrassment. Clint seemed to be enjoying himself though, throwing himself wholeheartedly into taking care of her and trying to meet every demand.

Natasha didn't want to be this horrible demanding pregnant woman, but every time she tells herself that, she's realized something along the lines of _I want this and I want it now_ has fallen out of her mouth and slid out smoothly over her tongue and Clint's already moving. Then a part of her brain pats her and shushes her and says _well he's gone already you might as well sit back and enjoy it_.

There was also the case of what they were now. They had never intended on having children, and now that _this_ was happening, Natasha wasn't sure how they were going to be. They were dating, sure – but were they going to get married? Did it matter if the child was born out of wedlock? Are they going to raise the child like a marriage couple or a dating couple? At one point the questions that were buzzing around Natasha's head were shaking with such fervor that she couldn't see straight, and she stumbled into her bedroom to lie down. She must've fallen asleep because when she woke up it was dark outside and she had cramps. She wasn't so obviously pregnant that she couldn't bend over yet, so she did sort of scrunched herself into a ball and checked the time. It was only five past midnight, and she tossed in her bed.

Fear started to stir in the pit of her stomach – it was normal to have cramps when you had your period, but not when it's the opposite of your period, right? She curled up tighter; she had never felt this much fear before, at least not since she was released from the Black Widow programme. This pregnancy really wasn't doing her much good. She felt the fear envelope her like a wave, wash over her like a tide. She started shivering even though she wasn't cold, and the only thought she had in her head was that she couldn't lose the baby.

It was then that there was a knock on her door and it opened a sliver.

"Tasha?"

Clint edged in and shut the door quietly behind him.

"I couldn't sleep." He whispered. Natasha was breathing heavily and sweating in her bed, but Clint stayed by the door and didn't move until Natasha shifted and made a soft noise of consent. He quietly groped to her bed in the dark, and put a hand on her shoulder

"Tasha you're shivering." His murmur was concerned, but they've been out in the field together enough times to know that they could take care of themselves, and to care more than is needed is just irritating.

"Can you stay?" Natasha whispered, and Clint automatically climbed into bed behind her, wrapping himself around her.

"Of course." His hand conveniently rested on her lower stomach, where the pain and fear was twisting. "What's wrong?" He whispered as Natasha's body still trembled in his arms.

"I have a stomach ache." Natasha said, feeling her eyes grow hot and the fear grow again. She twisted her head to look Clint in the eyes. "I'm scared."

Clint's hand automatically begun to rub circles around her stomach, like how he used to massage it whenever she had period cramps when they were in bed. It was soothing and dispelled the pain after some ten minutes, but the fear was still here.

"Why are you scared?" Clint finally whispered and his voice was surprisingly loud in the thick silence. His lips brushed against the back Natasha's neck and she had a shiver run down her spine. He continued kissing her skin, covering every inch he could reach.

"It's just … I wasn't sure I _could_ get pregnant, and now that I am … I'm starting to remember what happened to me during the program. I don't think we were ever designed to be able to conceive, so the fact that I am now proposes a problem."

"You think you'll miscarry." Clint's voice was now low, and didn't have a tone in it as if he felt indifferent to this problem. Natasha turned her head so her face was hidden in her hair as if that meant she didn't have to answer. But Clint understood anyway.

"I'm sure it's okay, we'll have you checked out first thing tomorrow morning. I'm sure you'll be fine, Tasha. I love you." Clint breathed against her hair. Natasha trusted Clint, so she tried not to worry anymore. She _was_ going to bring up the problem of their marital status, but felt like this might be one of those perfect moments in life, and she wasn't about to ruin this period of serendipity, so she just melted into Clint's arms and tried to sleep.

During the same time, Pepper woke suddenly in the arms of Tony, who was more unconscious than asleep. She was flooded with a bad feeling, and it felt like connectivity, like the feeling she had was about someone she knew.

"Something's wrong."


	3. The ultrasound

The resident doctor was very gentle, but his hands and fingers were very cold. Natasha was Russian, but the pregnancy had excited her blood flow and his fingers made her very uncomfortable. They were like frozen pin pricks, and they wondered around her stomach, pressing on her soft flesh and asking whether it hurt.

Clint sat by her side, and held her hand throughout the entire thing. She gripped it tightly all throughout the examination, through the questions and touching and medical inspections.

"Well, it all seems to be fine…" The doctor said, flipping through his notes on the clipboard. "For someone who's seven weeks pregnant, abdominal cramps are perfectly normal." He looked up from behind his glasses. "There's no vaginal bleeding, you say?" Natasha shook her head. "Well then it's all fine. You're in perfect health." He smiled.

Clint let out a breath that he didn't realize he had been holding, and Natasha's grip relaxed. She looked to Clint, who was opening and closing his other hand, and wiping it on his trousers. He saw her looking and chuckled nervously. "Sweaty palms."

Natasha's eyebrows rose, and she lifted up the hand she was holding, which was strangely un-clammy. Clint looked confused and said, "Sweaty _palm_."

For some reason Natasha thought this was the funniest thing ever, and laughed really loudly, and for a really long time.

"Uhh…" Clint looked to the doctor for help.

"Oh that's perfectly normal too – pregnancy can cause mood swings. Think surging hormones that amplifies whatever she feels. We'll book you to come back in five weeks to do an ultrasound." He said and smiled before ushering them out, with Natasha still laughing.

Pepper and Tony sat outside, and Tony was playing with Pepper's fingers, whispering things like _even if they swell they'll still be sexy and perfect. Just like me._ Pepper sighed, trying to hide her pleasure and looked up at Natasha and Clint.

"How was the check up?" Her face was open, but her tone sounded worried. Tony had stopped whispering and was looking at them two as well, but his callused fingers didn't stop running up and down Pepper's thin smooth ones, his thumb tracing shapes into her palm.

"Yeah, she's in perfect health. She's just got some cramps and –"Clint's sentence wavered as Natasha giggled and tried to contain herself. "– mood swings." Natasha waved her hand and crinkled her nose and mouthed _sorry guys go on_ as she giggled quietly.

"Yeah, well my perfect Pepper here has got none of that, isn't that right." Tony said as he pecked Pepper on the lips. Clint frowned and Natasha stopped laughing. Pepper looked back at them and laughed nervously.

"Uh yeah, he's been very … affectionate ever since he found out about the pregnancy." Pepper laughed as Tony tucked his nose behind her ear and whispered things that Clint couldn't hear and Natasha wish she couldn't hear. They nodded, exchanged short pleasantries and left when Pepper and Tony were called in by the doctor.

Pepper's results came back positive too, and quite honestly, the resident doctor was shocked how similar the women's conditions were and their conceiving date was only days off, too. It was like they were mirroring their physical state off each other.

It wasn't long before they were all due back again for their checkups, with their weeks in between a combination of food, frequent toilet trips, sporadic mood swings, and quote frankly – a whole lotta lovin. Once again, Pepper's ideal and healthy life style meant that she was perfectly healthy – top of the charts. She's lived this way even before she was pregnant, even before she had met Tony, so the idea that she would have any kind of health problem was just absurd. The doctor thanked her for making his job so easy, and Tony replied _you're quite welcome_.

It was the check up with the ultrasound, and Pepper rather liked getting the cool gel smoothed over her barely-there bump. She noted it and decided that she and Tony were definitely going to try it with something of similar consistency and temperature. In a more intimate setting.

It was strange and exciting when the screen presented a tiny humanoid shape in the black and green setting, the heartbeat thudding on the speakers, representing something that was theirs and _very much alive_. Pepper had grinned and Tony had felt like throwing up out of excitement, because they made this – _he_ made it. Then Pepper had started crying and she couldn't stop. It was happy crying, but sad tears, and a mixture of both inside Pepper's heart, because she really didn't know what was happening to her.

The doctor gave them a tape of the ultrasound, with the scan going all the way across her stomach rolling over the fetus entirely; from its head and its almost person like face to tiny, tiny toes. Then Pepper felt like throwing up because it was nine in the morning and the doctor had let her use his bathroom. She wanted to stay in there, because she doesn't think she can leave until at least eleven. She made Tony go home and buy more guava and smoked tuna because she will want it soon.

Tony waved them in on the way out, but Natasha felt too sick to notice that Pepper wasn't with him, and Clint was too worried about Natasha to notice either. Considering they were both highly esteemed spies and assassins, not even realizing that two people went in and one came out was incredibly worrying.

The doctor welcomed them, and asked Natasha to lie down and lift her shirt so he could spread jelly on her belly. She did so, and the doctor noted how similar Pepper and Natasha's stomachs were; even the skin tone. Natasha shivered when he spread the jelly around with the ultrasound scanner, and her stomach tensed uncontrollably. Clint squeezed her shoulder and gave her a reassuring smile.

"Okay, I'll pull up the scan now…" The doctor said, typing with one hand and a window opened up on the screen. There were lumps and shadows that didn't turn into any coherent shapes, but as the doctor moved the scanner around, Natasha thought she saw a closed eye next to a nose and Clint caught a glimpse of a spine.

"This is very strange." The doctor said as he continued typing, the scanner moving around and the shadows moving around too.

"What?" Natasha's head lifting clear of the pillow and her stomach tensing to raise her torso without using her arms. The doctor gently pushed her back onto her back, but now Clint was standing.

"It's nothing big, nothing bad." He gave a wry chuckle and smiled, but Clint didn't sit back down. Instead, he started rubbing soothing circles on Natasha's bare shoulder, the skin turning pink underneath his finger. "It's just …" He clicked twice with the mouse and the heartbeat came up on the speaker. "…this."

It was _heartbeats_.

There were _two heartbeats_. A _set of heartbeats_. _Heartbeats._ That word was always the denominator of all thoughts from then on until they left the room. The beats were almost evenly spaced, making no pause between each beat. It was like a consistent drumbeat .

"They're beating out a samba." The doctor smiled. Now that they knew, they could make out twins, sitting inside Natasha's womb. Small, delicate, and _twins_. They were both in different positions, as far as they could tell when the scanner rolled over Natasha's smooth skin, and they were both just so _small._

"Congratulations. You're having twins." The doctor said.

Suddenly the bathroom door opened and Pepper walked out, wiping her mouth a tissue with a very surprised look on her face. "You're having twins?"

Natasha could do nothing but nod, because she was just as surprised as Pepper, and Clint looked like he was going to pass out. Pepper ran over and hugged Natasha. "You're having twins!" She squealed, then said sounding terrified, then joyous and then jealously. Natasha felt out of breath, and could only turn to Clint and smile and repeat what Pepper was saying.

"We're having twins." She breathed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's all good! It's all good. I couldn't possibly have had anything bad happen, I mean come on I don't want to hurt you on purpose ... right now.


	4. Names, blessing and the woman

Now that both women had been given an idea that there really was something very real and alive living inside them, they took much better care of themselves, and spent all their time together and doing pregnant things. What the pregnant things Clint and Tony wouldn't know, because they were still registered as active Avengers, and Avengers had missions to go to. But every moment that wasn't spent on a mission, or sleeping or doing anything necessary for human survival, they spent with their pregnant better half. It was more than a good bonding experience, because they all knew how dangerous their jobs were, even if they won't admit it – so every minute spent together was that much more important to them.

The women became information sponges, working through mountains of pregnancy books each week and doing exercise and taking classes together like yoga, Pilates, doing laps at the pool and even weight training and low-impact aerobics. But now that both women were in their second trimester, they've become less sick in the mornings and ravenous. The food bills of the hungry picky women have stacked up, but now that it was public that they were pregnant, Fury had conveniently placed them on a S.H.I.E.L.D. bill, and he said it was courtesy of the board, but the smile and the twinkle in his eye said that it was a courtesy that the board didn't know they had extended.

Natasha was due in for more frequent check-ups than Pepper, because twins means that the chance of anything bad happening was more likely. But Pepper went with her when Clint wasn't available, and Tony sometimes went too, but just sat by the wall by himself, while the tense women gazed at the monitor and tests and the doctor's clipboard. When Clint was available though, Natasha would demand Pepper come anyway, even if she insisted on staying outside because this was a " _private thing between you and Clint_ ".

Pepper and Natasha had been a little bit disappointed when the doctor told her that twins are usually born prematurely before 37 weeks, but if it hasn't happened by the 38th week they will have to induce it – the women have formed such bonds that they were sure they were going to go into labor if not give birth at the same time. The doctor also advised that Natasha take the exercise easy, since she's carrying twins, and Natasha scowled. Her body had never been given so much off time before, and not working out made her skin itch.

She had taken to painting again – even though she's never had any experience, many people commented that she was doing very well for someone self taught. She didn't mention to any of them that her first artwork had been made with blood when she was ten. She had also been praised then.

Pepper had tried to learn new languages with her too, because she was quite bored of cooking and selling stocks. Nancy was doing too good a job at saving the company and it just wasn't fun anymore. But Natasha picked up the new languages like she was a scanner, while Pepper labored after her. Pepper already knew some Chinese and Japanese, since most of their trades were done with them. Natasha had added to her impressive collection of French, Russian, Bulgarian, Italian, German and English – all the languages to assist characters whose backgrounds she could pass off with – with Hungarian, Finnish and Celtic. Pepper had learned how to ask for the library in Spanish and a few greetings in French and Italian. She gave up after three weeks.

Natasha was about to make a start on Latin too, when both men – who had been talking – went up to their significant other and brought to attention something quite important.

"Baby names?" Natasha and Pepper said at the same time, even though they weren't in the same room. Natasha was in her room with a book on Latin phrases and Pepper was in the tower doing some knitting – her new pregnant passion.

Both women were now twenty-two weeks pregnant, and their bumps visible. Natasha hated being clumsy at this point because she's always been so small, and nimble. Pepper welcomed it like an old friend, hobbling around the tower or Natasha's room or anywhere they were together. They've been forced to eat healthy by Maria Hill, who they've lovingly coined 'Aunty Maria' to their unborn children.

"Yeah, well isn't it time to consider some names for the baby? I mean it might be an ongoing conversation and we'll have five months to sort it out if it needs that long." Clint said. Natasha rested the book on her bump and folded her arms.

"Alright, I guess so."

"Our child needs a name and I was talking to bird brain about it and it made sense to do it now." Tony said, sitting on the couch. Pepper desperately wanted what he was drinking, but she had taken a smart choice to have a cup of the scotch in one hand, and a large cup of water in the other. She would smell the alcohol, hold it, and drink the water. It almost worked most of the time.

"That's really smart. Me and Natasha hadn't considered it." Pepper said, drinking the water disappointingly.

"Natasha and I." Tony corrected. Pepper drank more water and gave him the stink eye.

"What about godparents?" Natasha said.

"Wait, who's going to be the godparent?" Pepper asked.

In the end, even though nothing had been discussed between the two couples upon this subject, both men opened their mouths and said " _Bruce Banner_."

The women nodded, out of agreement but more sympathy for Steve, who definitely knew what a godparent was and will no doubt be feeling excluded. They all wished the other couple had picked him to be their godparent, so that at least Steve would get a happy ending. They didn't seem to mind that the man they had nonchalantly chosen was capable of leveling cities when he snapped, but rather that they figured that with today's technology, Steve would be lost as godfather as soon as the children hit their teenage years.

They considered telling Bruce first thing in the morning, but then remembered that he was in Siberia for another month researching an energy core they had found. Disappointingly, they knew they would have to tell Steve first, and explain.

So names began to fly around – Ethan, Holly, Rosie, Eva, Matthew, Joe, Zachary, Ian, Edward, Thomas, and so on and so force. But the names that were chosen in the end were all very important to everyone involved. It had been a grueling three hours of nonstop name generating, and Tony felt like his lips were going to fall off.

Natasha requested Elsa and Aleksandr, because one time she had glimpsed her file, and those were her parent's names. Clint immediately caved, simply because he thought the names were gorgeous and Natasha was gorgeous for even asking. She should've just demanded it in his opinion. Pepper ended up being allowed Juliet, after her great grandmother, as long as Tony could have Jethrow, an old workmate of his father's that's always treated him like a smart adult, and not a child, and the only man to treat him as an equal when his father was still alive. All the names held meaning, and all four participants were incredibly approving.

The night passed and day came, and the women sent the men off to find Steve while they met up for more pregnancy things. Steve was using the toaster for the third time that week, and he managed to remember to do all the right things to make it work. He wasn't going to be scared by the toast popping up today, because he wasn't going to be looking, so he walked over to the table and sat, and waited. But when the toasted popped out it was silence, and Steve had been listening intently, unintentionally, so it scared him anyway.

Tony sauntered in, saw Steve, and silently walked backwards out of the room – as if that was the key to invisibility. Steve saw him anyway.

"Tony, what are you doing?"

Tony froze, sighed, then stretched and walked back in. "Hey Steve, Steve-ie, Steve-o." He said as he sat down and pinched a piece of Steve's toast. Steve's eyebrow rose disapprovingly in response. "I've got something to tell you."

"Is Pepper okay?" Steve's eyes and voice was suddenly worried, and his hand involuntarily moved to Tony's. At that point Clint walked in and automatically sat down, taking Steve's other piece of bread.

"Hey, I have to talk to you." Clint said.

"I'm in the middle of something." Tony said, not answering Steve's question.

"I reckon my thing is more important, Tony." Clint said. Tony's eyes narrowed.

"Did Natasha –"

"Did Pepper –"

Both men's eyes widened, and they both looked at Steve at the same time, Steve mimicking a deer in the headlights. He wanted to bolt and run out of here but their gaze held you down. As if in a contest to blurt their sentence out first, both men said the same thing at the same time.

"Sorry, but you can't be the godfather."

Steve was almost relieved, because the men started arguing _what do you mean who do you have no you can't have Bruce he's ours well I'm sorry the last time I checked a human being wasn't property well technically he's a human being 2.0 shut up Tony you shut up birdboy_ and they haven't even noticed Steve leaving. To be fair, Steve didn't feel upset at all – he wasn't sure what he would even do with a child, let alone take on the responsibility of godfather.

He just decided to go out and get breakfast, and leave the arguing men to their own devices. On the way out of the kitchen, he accidentally walked into a woman, and with his super-soldier strength, one wrong move had sent her files cascading down onto the floor in a flurry of white.

"I am so sorry." He said as he bent and tried to pick up the pages, trying to find the order they were in before.

"Oh my – no it's okay I can get it." She smiled as she started to gather the papers on her knees, stacking them in no order. Steve saw that and stopped his endeavor to restore the pages to their original order. Then he picked up a file that was half scattered, and it was open. It was the word ' _Carter_ ' that caught his attention.

"Thank you." The woman held out a hand. She had retrieved all the files and only missed the one in Steve's hand. Steve looked embarrassed because these could be private files after all.

"Sorry." He tried to smile as he handed it back. Then he looked at her, as in _really_ looked at her, and there was a thick pang of nostalgia as he remembered something.

Peggy?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DUM DUM DUM. Aren't you happy I already have the next chapter up already? ;)


	5. Thank you, Mr Rogers

He must've said it out loud because the woman's brow furrowed, both in confusion and suspicion. "Peggy who?" She asked slowly, almost cautiously.

Steve shook his head – no, Peggy was gone. It's been more than six decades since he was frozen, there's no way that she's … No. But it was her eyes – those chocolate brown eyes filled with so much courage and audacity, and the way her brown curls hugged her shoulders. She looked so much like Peggy, and yet she wasn't. She definitely wasn't.

"Nothing. Sorry for bumping into you." Steve said, avoiding her eyes and walking on past her. The woman couldn't say anything and her eyes searched the floor where he had stood, and she made a decision. She turned and yelled down the corridor where Steve was going to turn a corner.

"My aunt was Peggy Carter. Do you mean her?"

Steve stopped dead. His eyes grew hot and his heart swelled in his chest like a tempest, but he couldn't bring himself to turn around after she had said her name. After she had said _Peggy Carter_ like it didn't mean anything. Like it couldn't affect him whatsoever.

"You're Steve Rogers, right?" She was suddenly very close very quickly very silently. Steve regretted to say that he jumped. "Captain America."

Steve turned and looked at her, and smiled like he used to when he did those shows at army camps. "That's me."

She didn't smile back like he thought she would, because she still frowned. She took one hand from the files and put it on his arm. "I'm sorry I didn't recognize you. My mum never let me near any Captain America stuff, because of Aunt Peggy. It was pretty impressive since you were pretty much the biggest thing back then." Her voice turned quiet. "Until you crashed that plane that is."

Steve looked at her, those eyes, that hair, those lips – Steve caught himself just in time. What was wrong with him? This was Peggy's niece, and that was just immoral on so many levels. "It was my job." Was all he could say.

Slowly and silently, she leaned in until her lips met the side of his cheek, on his cheekbone, and left a soft warm peck. "Thank you." She whispered only loud enough for him to hear, and then she was gone, down the corridor with her files. Steve's eyes unwillingly followed her down, until she disappeared around the corner, where she turned her head and glanced at him before leaving.

"She's very pretty." Steve heard. He turned as quick as a striking snake, as if someone had caught him in the middle of something. Maria Hill stood there near a door, where she had probably just walked through, and had seen the woman kissing him. It was on the face though, on the face, Steve repeated to himself. "Who was that?"

"Uh…" Steve rubbed the back of his neck, which felt strangely hot. "I don't know." He admitted. He didn't get her name, and all he knew was that she was Peggy's niece. Maria gave him a cynical look and scoffed.

"I never knew you were such a lady's man, Rogers." She said. "Is she your…" She left the word to his decision.

"Girlfriend? No, no I just met her." He said, and then realized how bad it sounded when Maria gave him another unconvinced look. Steve couldn't help the color rising to his cheeks, because he really didn't want Maria of all people thinking he was that kind of man. She sympathized with his technology problems and didn't patronize him, and she helped him through settling into S.H.I.E.L.D. He didn't like her, not like that – at least that's what he tried to convince himself of.

Maria had wandered over during their conversation, and now they were both looking down the corridor where the woman had disappeared.

"She's very pretty." Maria said again, and her tone was unreadable.

"Yeah, she is." Was all Steve could answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to research for Sharon and I came upon her by accident, but wow this is actually such a fantastic plot twist for me to work on.


	6. Let's ask Bruce

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BRUCEY BRUCE BRUCE.

Bruce jittered in the car; the soft snow had given way to scattered stone and the buggy wasn't built for the rough terrain. But the pick-up site was only half a mile on the rocks, so Bruce was just going to have to rough it for a bit.

The flat slate where the helicopter sat was within his sights, and Bruce had to readjust his glasses as they went violently over a stone, almost tossed into the air, and he was flung from his seat.

"Hold on tight!" The driver – Quinton – yelled as he sped up so he could bypass a gaping hole between two rocks. It felt like that this was going to be Bruce's last day on earth, because the car was shaking and Quinton no longer looked like he was in control of it. Luckily, when the car hit a stone and tipped sideways, it threw them level to the ground, so when they half skid half rolled across the flat tarmac to the helicopter, there wasn't much air time.

Bruce groaned, and felt his throat pressing against his neck, his blood almost roaring in his veins. He breathed heavily, squeezing his eyes shut and concentrating on controlling his breathing. He's had it worse, but caution was always wise, so he had made sure he was calmed down before he tried to stand up again.

"Are you alright, Doctor Banner?" Quinton asked, offering a hand and rubbing his head. He had been thrown too, but only slightly, and following procedures, he had waited until Bruce opened his eyes to try and talk to him.

"Yeah, I reckon so." Bruce said, taking his hand and getting up. He felt bruises all over, but nothing was broken or cut. Quinton bid him farewell at the helicopter, and went to the toppled car to take it back to base.

"See you in a few months!" He hollered before the helicopter began to take off. His buggy was light, and he had straightened it with minimal effort. He zoomed back over the rocks toward the white line in the distance.

"Doctor, there is an incoming message." The pilot said after Bruce had put the headset on.

"Oh yeah, patch them through." Bruce said.

The hologram filter Tony had fitted in all the helicopters brought up a screen, where Tony was taking a sip of his drink.

"Hey Bruce." He said, looking very serious.

"Oh hey Tony, how's Pepper?" Bruce said, smiling. He felt the helicopter lift off the ground, and wobble slightly as it turned toward the right direction.

"Oh good. Good. I have something to ask of you though, it's from both of us, really." He said. Bruce nodded to have him continue. Tony took a deep breath. "We want you to be the go-"

Suddenly Clint burst into the scene, and pushed Tony from the shot. "Whatever he's telling you don't agree. I'm asking you first –"

"No Bruce don't listen to him, listen to me –"

"Stop pushing me!"

"Stop pushing _me_!"

"Don't copy me!"

"You can't even afford to touch me."

"Guys! Stop fighting!" Bruce yelled, trying to get over the sound of their argument.

"Doctor, there's another incoming message." The pilot said.

"Alright just put these two on hold. I don't think they'll notice." The screen fuzzed and it switched to another screen. It was one of the living rooms in the Stark Tower, one that the guys weren't in.

"Hey Bruce." Pepper said, waving. Natasha smiled.

"Oh hi, how's the pregnancy going?" Bruce asked.

"Oh _comme ci, comme ça_." Natasha said, rubbing her stomach. She stood a little bit, and the bump came into view.

"We just really wanted to ask you something, as a favor from both of us." Pepper said, her smile soft.

"We want you to be the godfather of our babies." Natasha said.

"I know it's unorthodox, but we've talked it over, and it felt like it was alright to do that." Pepper said.

"Plus we know you would have no problem being godparent to three children." Natasha said.

"Three…?" Bruce said.

"Oh, he doesn't know. Natasha's having twins!" Pepper exclaimed.

"No way!" Bruce smiled, his mouth open wide. "Congratulations!" Then he frowned. "I really have been away for a long time."

"Oh yeah." Pepper agreed. Then she looked up. "What's the noise?" Natasha looked too. Bruce could hear a faint noise of argument.

"Oh that's right." Bruce said, changing the channels. "I'll be right back." Pepper and Natasha disappeared, and a bickering Tony and Clint appeared.

"You!" Tony pointed at the screen. "Where'd you go?"

"Bruce you're our kid's godparent." Clint babbled.

"No he's ours!"

"No, ours!"

"Guys! I'm both!" Bruce shouted. "I've just gone and talked to the halves of you that are sane, and they've sorted it out – I'm both of your kid's godparent."

Clint and Tony had stopped arguing, but now they were slyly hitting each other under the table.

"Oh." _Thump._

"That's great. Ow." _Thump_.

"Okay then." _Thump._

"We'll see you when you get back." _Thump._

Just before the call ended, Clint and Tony went back to arguing again.

"Come at me, bird boy!"

"Try and take me without your sui-"

Natasha and Pepper came back on screen. "It was the boys, wasn't it." Natasha asked flatly.

"Yeah. But hey, on the bright side – I've thought over it and I would love to be the godfather." Bruce beamed. Pepper and Natasha squealed and clapped with _thank you thank you Bruce_ and ended the call, promising to give him a welcoming committee when he gets back to base. Bruce sat back in the seat and listened to the whirring of the helicopter.

"Wow, twins."


	7. Peggy's niece

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From this point on every chapter I post will be in real time! :)

Thirty weeks on and Natasha and Pepper had begun to involve the fathers in the act of plastering their hands to their bellies just in case the baby moves again. It felt miniscule and gargantuan at the same time, because the little baby – rather well developed now – was moving around inside the woman's womb, and that by itself was amazing beyond comprehension.

Natasha went ecstatic like a Chihuahua every time it happened, jumping and squealing _Clint it's moving it's moving come here what are you doing oh my god_ _it's moving_ like an alien was residing in her stomach. She would rub it and put Clint's palm on it and Clint would feel the tiny pushes against the skin, minute movement that represented life. At night, Natasha's hand never left her stomach, just in case the baby moved again.

Pepper was quite calm but alert all the time, whereas Tony was the Chihuahua now, asking every few minutes _has the baby moved yet no okay I'll check back with you later my lovely what about now_ like an answering machine replaying the same message. Pepper was very patient and loving, and let Tony sleep with his hand on her stomach, even if it made her hot and uncomfortable half the time.

But it was the Brixton Hicks contractions that aroused the most noise – Brixton Hicks contractions were basically the uterus tightening and tensing, due to the need to expand and make room for the baby. Clint and Tony had marveled at this, even though worry was never far off, and if any complaint of discomfort came up they would immediately spring to attention and bring warm packs or provide massages upon the area to try and ease the – even if only minor – ache.

So it was with all this bustle and noise that everyone overlooked Steve, on his lonesome but not feeling deserted one bit, mauling over problems of his own. He had asked around for the woman he had bumped into – Peggy's niece.

Apparently she had never existed.

Sure the birth records were there but they stopped after a certain point and there really wasn't anyone behind the records at all. The woman wasn't witnessed going into or coming out of Stark tower at all at any point, and no one except for him and Maria had seen her. And Maria had only had a long look at her pretty behind.

Behind.

There was no pretty, he had not said pretty at all, his mind wasn't anywhere near that – Steve thought. Then he started thinking about Maria, and how rigid she went when he asked about the woman, always busy when he asked to talk and always not feeling up for it when she couldn't get out of facing him.

Steve visited Fury that very afternoon.

"Peggy Carter's niece?" His eyebrow went up but his fingers kept typing on the hologram-keypad. He was looking up a mission planned for one of their agents somewhere, but Steve averted his eyes to that. He had been working as an Avenger long enough to respect other Agent's privacy, and he wasn't really interested anyway. It still stung when Fury said her name; _Peggy Carter_ , but somehow, it was different coming from him. It was like it didn't matter when other people said her name, but it wasn't okay for the woman to – because she _was_ Peggy, in so many ways, and she just wasn't allowed to say her name without warrant.

"Yeah, at least … That's what she told me." Steve now accepted the possibility that she had lied, but his heart just screamed _no_ , because she looked like Peggy. She looked like the Peggy that Steve had kissed one last time, sounded like the Peggy he had spoken to before he was plunged into the cold, and she was the legacy of the only person he had been frozen thinking of.

"Steve, I need to know that you know what you're getting yourself into." Fury said. Steve knew what he meant – she might be an enemy, he might be sent after her, he would have to finish it – but he just couldn't go on like this anymore; spending every day wondering where she was and who she really was. He knew that was the risk, but he also knew that he really _really_ wanted to get himself into this situation. He nodded.

"Please," He paused, his eyes lowering to the ground. "I never ask for anything, please just give me this."

Fury sighed. "I need to know you're not going to compromise anyone involved with her, if I do show you this." Fury's eye searched his face, the silence between them thick and the hum of machines distracting. Steve nodded sternly once, and then with a swish of a finger Fury brought up a file on the screen in front of him.

"Her name is Sharon Carter." He glanced at Steve. "We had all her files and records wiped when she was assigned with us; I have no idea who you talked to to get her birth records. She's been with us since she was a young woman, and I'm sure revealing the background of her identity to you was done deliberately." Fury looked at him, and enlarged a photo, that was the woman, but clad in S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform. "Steve, allow me to introduce you to Agent 13."

"Agent?" Steve frowned and almost felt like laughing – she was just like Peggy, always a taste for adventure. "Is she with you?"

"Working with S.H.I.E.L.D.? Yes, of course. Her aunt was, so why wouldn't she? She always aspired to be like Peggy you know." Fury said, and then his voice was different. "She told us that Peggy was always very fond of you, till the end of her days.

Steve wanted to change the subject desperately, because his heart hurt and he wanted to bury himself under his blankets. "Why was she at Stark tower?"

Fury happily complied. "Let's just say she's taken upon the job Miss Romanoff had before she was compromised."

Steve's eyes widened. "She's babysitting Stark?"

Fury laughed. "You're surprised? Stark is responsible for half the damage bills in this company, it's time I registered someone to keep him under control." Then he smiled. "Plus with Miss Potts and all, it's better to know that he's safe."

Steve's thoughts were scattered, because now all he wanted to do was to find Sharon. But then he remembered how harshly Maria refused to converse with him all throughout the weeks, how stern her lips had been and how cold her eyes went when he mentioned Sharon at all. His thoughts of Sharon were pushed to the side as he made the connection, and he didn't know what to say really, because the next thing coming out of his mouth was:

"Do you know where I can find Agent Maria Hill?"


	8. The new temp

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for making you guys wait so long for this update, but let's just say life's heated up a little bit recently (so not in the sexual sense) and I haven't had as much time or motivation to write
> 
> I just hadn't felt up to it for a while and plus I have quite a few side projects that contain deadlines, so I've been stressing about those as well
> 
> But hey, enjoy!

“And your name is?”

“Sharleen Cameron.” The woman said, her brown hair pinned up past her ears and her chocolate coloured eyes warm. She handed him a file, thick with paper and a card. Tony swiped the card on a handheld device, and a hologram screen came up in front of him.

“Since when did we need another assistant? Oh it's a temp this time, but that so doesn't justify it. The last one turned out to be a master assassin; you’re not one are you?” Tony pointed at Sharleen . She smiled reservedly and said _no_. Pepper gave him a look that said _did you really think that could work_. “What? Sometimes it’s really just that simple.”

“It does seem like you have most of the assets our beloved team member had when she came to us from _legal_ though.” Pepper put air quotations around the occupation. As close as she is to Natasha now, she still wasn’t over the whole Tony-hires-whoever-he-wants-because-he’s-Tony-Stark thing. Her finger traced the list.

“Hebrew, Bulgarian, German, Hungarian –“Pepper’s voice paused before she looked up at Sharleen. “Latin?” Sharleen smiled and nodded nonchalantly. “That’s – that’s not really a language you can use is it?”

“Now Pepper, just because Nata –“

“I mean, you can read and write Latin, but it says here you’re fluent in Latin speech.” Pepper kept on. Sharleen’s smile faded a little.

“I’m not sure what you mean to say, Miss Potts.” She said, and Pepper shook her head, chuckling, her demeanour suddenly friendly again.

“I’m sorry. It’s not your fault, um – let’s just say me and Latin don’t get along.” She smiled. Sharleen smiled back, but it looked a bit strained.

“Come on Pepper, someone good happens and you chase after them with their educational choices.” Tony said, flicking through the photos. “Part-time model?” His lip lifted in a small smile before Pepper glared at him and it slipped back down.

“Yes, but not anymore. Be assured that I will devote myself one hundred and one percent into this job, including being responsible for all of Miss Potts’ needs and requirements.” She said, all chipper and bright like sunshine. Tony definitely thought this was a good thing since Iron Man was needed more frequently for overseas missions being the fastest one to get there, and he needed someone to keep him up to date at all times with Pepper. Sharleen seemed perfect – full of energy and ready for anything, she could definitely desert a social life to stay on a com to Tony at all times so he could access her.

The elevator opened, and Maria came out, looking hassled with Steve trailing behind her.

“Stop asking me I just didn’t feel up for it okay?” Maria was yelling, trying to bat Steve away. “You don’t need to know everything, god!” Steve kept trying to put a hand on her shoulder but shrank away almost in respect of her feelings when she went to brush him away. 

“I just want to know, Maria –“ Steve’s eyes took in the scene before him – Pepper, Tony and Sharleen standing by Pepper’s desk. Then his eyes widened, Maria stopped and they both looked incredibly misplaced.

“Sorry for interrupting.” Maria said, turning around to head out of the elevator.

“No hey guys, I want you to meet Sharleen – you might as well since she’s gonna be around with Pepper and stuff all the time.” Tony called, halting Maria in her step. Sharleen walked over, all smiles with her hand extended.

“Hello, and you are?” Maria took it and smiled back, _Maria Hill_ with eyes that had a hint of coldness. Then she went to Steve, offering her hand again.

“You’re Steve Rogers right? Captain America? Wow I can’t believe I’m meeting you. I was raised up on stories of you, my mum loved you.” She said. Steve felt like he was being stabbed in the chest – he knows that her lying was her job, if she wanted Tony to trust her to tell her about suicide missions and whatnot, she needed to seem inconspicuous and withholding no threat whatsoever. But the way she said the first two sentences compared to the first time she had said it to him in that hallway – _You’re Steve Rogers right? Captain America? I’m sorry I didn’t recognise you. My mum never let me near any Captain America stuff, because of Aunt Peggy_.

And now here she was, lying to him and undercover with Tony Stark, pretending she had spent all her childhood admiring and looking up to him and ironically it was all _because of Aunt Peggy_. It seems like Peggy was back again, and his world was once again revolving around her – she was his axis again, except now the axis was right here, looking at him with a smile that looked so real, with words that sounded so sincere, with hand extended that looked so harmless and yet he couldn’t bring himself to shake it.

“That’s Steve, yeah. Are you okay?” Tony finally broke the silence, and Sharleen retrieved her hand, balling it into a fist and letting it fall to her side.

“It’s okay, sometimes I can be pretty upfront and overwhelming.” Sharleen laughed it off, patting Steve on the back. Steve felt something being tucked into his pocket, and then Sharleen’s hand was gone.

“Okay, well it was nice meeting you Sharleen,” Maria said. “but me and Steve have some stuff to sort out and we might’ve come to the wrong level.” She pulled Steve toward the elevator, leaving the three people standing alone in the room with an uncomfortable silence that had been brought in like an aura.

“It was nice meeting you too!” Sharleen called before the elevator doors closed. It seemed for a split second, Sharleen’s face was devoid of all emotion, but then she was up and going again, smiling at Tony and Pepper and arranging for communication and timetables.

In the elevator, Maria and Steve stood at arm’s length from each other, with Maria’s arms crossed and Steve not really knowing where to look, and his absent gaze settled on the ground floor button. He reached over and pressed it, even though Maria had set the elevator to level six.

“What are you doing?”

“I’ve just remembered I’ve got some stuff.” Steve said, whatever it was Sharon had put in his pocket feeling very heavy. “To do.”

“What stuff?”

“It’s nothing important and hey, I’ll leave you alone, right?” Steve said, and Maria had almost thought he had snapped at her. Maria was silent for a bit, but then she realized that Steve was more of a closed book right now than she was before when he was trying to talk to her, and accepted that, stepping back into her crossed-armed position and staring into the corner. The elevator dinged Maria out, and her face almost betrayed worry, but just before the door shut, she blinked several times, her eyes darting away from Steve’s.

As soon as the elevator began to move again and Steve had felt a little bit sick, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a slip of paper.

 _Rooftop Midnight Come_ Was all there was, and then Steve realized it was folded, and he opened it to a single word.

 _Please_.


	9. The rooftop

When Steve looks back on that night, the clearest thing he could remember was how cold that night was. He rode the elevator to the very top, where there was a door that leads to the fire escape stairs, which took him to the very top of the building. At least that’s what he assumed was _rooftop_. The wind was very wild that night, and it whipped even his short cut of hair around his face, his blonde hair scratching his eyes. He looked around, and the night was dark, and it smelt like rain.

“Hey!” He heard a call. He looked over the edge where there was a lower ledge, and Sharon was standing there, in a thick navy coat. “Sorry, I should’ve been clearer. I’ll be right up.” She disappeared into the building, and it was a few freezing moments before the door opened and Sharon was by his side.

“Hi.” She said. Steve tried to smile and wished he had brought a jacket with him.

“Hi.”

“I’m sorry about before. We shouldn’t have been introduced in that way.” Sharon said, her eyes sad. “You have to know I never meant for that to happen.”

Steve couldn’t say anything, because he didn’t know if he forgave her or not, or if he even had a reason to be mad at her in the first place.

“I should’ve introduced myself in that hallway, but it wasn’t mine to tell.” Sharon said, tucking her hands into the folds of her jacket arms. She looked around, and the wind whipped her brown hair forwards.

“I know who you are.” Steve said, and Sharon’s gaze darted to his, and then to the darkness beyond the gleaming city.

“Maria?”

“Fury.”

Sharon looked at him again, and she wasn’t smiling, but she wasn’t angry either. “So you know.”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Why I’m here.”

“To babysit Tony yeah.”

Sharon suddenly looked at him and then looked away, and she muttered, “Yeah.”

Steve didn’t like the silence and the sound of whistling wind between them, and he tried to think of something to say. “So Peggy …”

Sharon looked at him. “What about her?”

“Did you know her? I mean – after. After …”

“Yes.” Sharon’s gaze softened. “I lived with her for a while, until.” The word was a final word, like it has always meant to be the finishing word at all. Like _she died_ hasn’t been a normal way to end a sentence in a long time.

“Until.” Steve repeated the word; same word, same tone.

“She never stopped talking about you, you know.” Sharon said.

“Really.” Was all Steve managed to squeak out.

“I lived with her for eleven years.” Sharon’s voice grew quieter and Steve realized the wind had stopped blowing. “She prayed for you every night, at the dinner table.”

Steve didn’t say anything, because now he just felt like he wanted to tell her to be quiet, and to stand here in silence for a while. But she kept talking.

“She never forgot you, Steve.” Sharon said, as if that was supposed to reassure him. “Never.”

Steve looked at the floor and frowned, like that was going to keep his tears in. “Never.”

“Never.” Sharon said, putting a hand on his cheek so he would look at her. “After I moved in with her, she started telling me stories of you. She had one picture of you – before your transformation.” Sharon reached into her coat and pulled out a small gold locket from around her neck. “This was hers.” She opened the locket and there was a picture in there. It was black and white, and very scuffed, but yes, it was a picture of Steve. It must’ve been one of the headshots that they had used for his candidate profile when he enlisted into the army. It was a smaller version, and there he was, standing with head tall, chin up, shoulders straight, hoping one day he will get into the army and help them kill some Nazis. “This was hers too.”

Steve stared at the locket and then he looked to Sharon. She continued talking.

“She never meant for it to end like that. You have to know. She never meant for that kiss to be the end. She never meant for any of that, and she missed you a lot. I’m sorry Steve, I really am. She loved you, and I could tell, from the stories she told me; from the way she told me. She-“

“ _Shut up! Shut up._ ” Steve screamed, and then kissed her.

He really didn’t know what happened there, honestly. He remembered that every word that she was saying stung him like flecks of acid on his skin, and he just wanted the pain to stop. So he yelled at her, and in that moment he hated her. And then he kissed her, and he loved her, and he felt like he was back in that airplane hangar again, and he was kissing Peggy, except he knew it was for the last time. Then he snapped out of it, and she punched him in the face, and he had felt so sorry.

Her fist met the side of his face and he had to admit, that was harder than any alien technology that’s ever hit him in the face anymore. He gasped and his head swung to the left, and he remember that the blood rushing to his face felt too warm, and then Sharon grabbed his face and kissed him again.


	10. The intruders

So thirty-six weeks down and both women were now having waves of panic every now and again, because they were closing in on their due date, and even though the baby wasn’t bothering them much anymore, they had gained close to ten or twelve or god-knows-how-many kilograms, and moving was now beyond possible. Sitting down wasn’t comfortable, lying down wasn’t comfortable, they only managed to sleep every night by drinking copious amounts of warm milk before they sleep. But then their pregnancy-pressured bladders would wake them not half an hour later and they would have to drink more milk. Pepper joked about how their babies must have bones harder than diamonds and then Natasha agreed with it wholeheartedly, no jokes.

Tony and Clint discovered they couldn’t get paternity leaves until at most a week before Pepper and Natasha are due, so Clint’s been sent off to Austria and Tony is down in the Caribbean’s fighting off some pirates. Yes really.

It was a night when the water pounded down in Stark Towers making the thunder match the sound of rain against metal. Pepper and  Natasha were in the kitchen kneading dough because they both fancied some homemade banana bread. Then the lights went off, there was the sound of the backup generators having trouble turning on.

“What’s going on?” Pepper said, and Natasha immediately shushed her.

“Someone’s in the tower.”

“Yeah – I mean there’s us two, and … Sharleen.” Pepper counted. “You mean her?”

“No.” Natasha said, dropping as low as she could with her pregnant belly. “Someone else.” She reached for Pepper to try and get her to duck under the counter too, but it honestly was very difficult. With some difficulty, Pepper got onto her hands and knees, so that she was obscured from view by the counter if anyone was at the door.

Natasha held up a finger and shushed her quietly, and then she reached up to open a cabinet. She reached in and with some soft clinking noises she drew out a handful of knives. She laid them on the ground softly, and from the light shining through the large windows, Pepper saw that Natasha had lain all four knives side by side, from biggest to smallest. Natasha looked to Pepper and signalled complete silence, and Pepper nodded, easing back on her knees so she could stay in the same position for longer.

Just then, even Pepper could hear it – the soft squeak of combat boot sole on their linoleum floor. To her, the door was a pitch black rectangle, but to Natasha’s sharp eyes, she could see the room beyond; the sofa and table. Then she saw a shape move very distantly, behind the sofa. She gripped the biggest knife, levelled it in her hand. She felt the shape of the handle against her palm, how the blade tilted the knife forwards, and she breathed deep, remembering her training.

She turned the handle in her hand, and eyed the entrance. The shape was moving closer – silently. It was a trained person, whoever they were. They were armed; maybe she was imagining it, but Natasha could hear the noise each bullet made as it moved against another bullet in the cartridge with each silent step the person took.

Pepper was silent behind her, but she couldn’t still her breathing. The person neared the door, and Natasha gripped the knife. She leant back slightly, raising her hand behind her. The person’s shadow was cast through the door, and Natasha flung the knife forward. There was the sound of metal blade cutting through air, and then the knife stuck itself into the frame of the door, the handle wobbling with _twang_.

“Don’t come any closer.” Natasha warned, reaching for another knife. “I will kill you, and you know that.”

The person did indeed stop, but then Natasha saw the flash of the gun nozzle.

“Down!” She yelled, and bullets showered the kitchen. Pepper screamed and ducked down further under the counter, splinters of wood and crockery showering both of them. When the bullets stopped, Natasha pulled back again and waited. The person glanced around the corner, and Natasha let fly again, the person ducking back just in time, the knife chipping the corner of the door and bouncing off in the opposite direction.

Natasha picked up the third knife, and was about to hurl it again when all she felt was wet - even on the inside, and there was a thin stabbing pain in her abdomen. She reached down and her fingers were wet, and the pain was increasing.

“Shit.”

“Natasha you’re –“Pepper gasped, the liquid pooling around Natasha’s knees. She suddenly groaned and dipped her head as what was maybe the beginning of the contraction consumed all her thoughts, and all Natasha could think of was how much she hated this. Her stomach tightened and the contraction happened again, stabbing her with pain. She hated this pain – she couldn’t make it go away. All she could do was back up onto her back and scoot back as far as she could, next to Pepper. Sensing that she was incapacitated, the man moved forward, gun pointed. It was dark and he didn’t have any night-vision goggles on, so he was probably just as blind as Pepper was, and that was how he slipped on the pool of fluids Natasha had left by the counter when her water broke. He had made a noise, but nothing more when his helmeted head connected with the side of the counter. He slumped to the floor, his gun thrown across the length of the room – away from the three of them.

There was a noise from the living room, and Pepper just knew she couldn’t crawl across to get the gun. The man’s partner came into the room, and it took him a second to locate the mid-labour Natasha and frightened Pepper, as well as his unconscious partner. The intruder advanced on them, and Pepper could do nothing but hold Natasha tighter and shut her eyes.

But lo and behold, suddenly something smashed into the back of the man’s helmet, and he too slumped to the floor.

“You really shouldn’t pick on pregnant women, it’s pathetic.” Sharleen said, blender in hand.

“Sharleen, oh thank god – Natasha’s water has broken, and – and we need a hospital or a doctor or something – oh my god!” Pepper was hyperventilating and she grasped Natasha’s hand so tight her knuckles turned white even in the darkness.

Natasha was doing her best to overcome the pain that came sequentially and coordinated – like waves of attack. She tried to control her breathing and tried to keep breathing. Then all of a sudden the pain ceased – or at least lessened immensely – and she no longer felt wet from the inside. That means she had probably started dilating and they should probably get to a hospital.

“Pepper,” She reached for her friend in the darkness even though Pepper had her other hand. “We need to get to a hospital.” Natasha said. “We probably have a little while before I become a burden again.” Pepper looked to Sharleen, who nodded and turned to check that there were no more intruders, but none of them had heard the two men approaching them from behind.

One of the men brought the gun nozzle up against Sharleen’s forehead before she even registered what was happening, and Natasha’s keen ears could tell that this man had his finger on the trigger and was squeezing.

Suddenly one of the doors connecting the emergency stairwells burst open followed by a _hey_!

The captain’s shield flew out from the darkness and ricocheted off the man holding Sharleen at gun point, throwing the other man back. Sharleen had to duck though, because the man’s finger convulsed against the trigger as the shield hit him in the back and he fired anyway.

Steve ran over and picked up his shield, knocking out the man completely as he neared. The man’s helmet made an off-tune _clang_ as his face met the shield.

“We got here as soon as we could - Are you okay?” He asked Sharleen, and all she did was look to Pepper and Natasha. _You’re making it a bit obvious, Rogers_. She seemed to say. Steve cleared his throat and looked to the pregnant women. “Are you guys- _whoa is Natasha okay_?” Embarrassment to concern in 0.2 seconds flat.

“Her water’s broken – we need to get her to a hospital.” Bruce said, who was suddenly there, and apparently had been there the whole time. He pulled out his phone but Sharleen stopped him.

“We’ll take the helicopter.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are probably like: But Clint and Tony are in Austria and the Carribbeans!!1!! D:


	11. The situation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are so lucky I'm pumping this out like crazy quickly I don't even know what's going on it's just so effortless writing this stuff. Well, enjoy!

The tank blew up and Tony was pushed back by the gust of air that rose from the explosion. The men on the ground were still firing, but Tony really had to take care of those planes first. He powered up all boosters and then heard them fail.

“What’s going on? Ja _rviiiiiiiiis_!” He yelled as he plummeted out of the sky. His screen was dark and it was obvious Jarvis was offline. Tony reached behind him and pulled the lever built into his back – it was a new improvement; the separate battery could keep Tony going for a few minutes if it came to needing it – it was completely untested but Tony was glad he fitted it into the suit before he left. His boosters spluttered into life and Tony struggled to stop spinning as he descended from the sky. He straightened himself and knew he had less than five minutes to land. He scanned the ground with his bare eyes but there wasn’t much he could do without Jarvis coordinating every move. There were men crawling amongst every inch and Tony knew his best chance was to head for the jungle. It was a strip of green in the distance, and Tony knew his power won’t carry for all of that distance, so Tony did what he knew he had to do – he powered up all boosters and hoped the landing would be softer than he anticipated.

Clint ducked as the bullet ricocheted off the cliff face above his head, and fired. The arrow whipped through the winds of the valley and he heard the echo of a muted _thwack_ as the head found its target. He saw a shape fall from the out hang opposite him. Then there was German yelling and Clint had to duck again as rocks pelted him from above, broken off by bullets.

He could see them, but he could also see that they had more than enough ammunition to continue firing – he wouldn’t be provided with a clear shot for a long time, and the train was leaving in two minutes.

He eyed the cave entrance and then the rails built into the side of the cliff. In the distance he heard the whistling of a train – _make that one minute_. He rolled out from behind the cliff face and fired a fitted arrow – it exploded on impact, blowing men from the cliff and back into the tunnel. Clint felt a bullet lodge itself into his shoulder, and he quickly ducked back, pressing the wound closed as best as he could, but blood still leaking through his fingers.

“Shit.”

The whistling of the train was closer now, and Clint definitely couldn’t do much with this wound in his shoulder. He looked back – the men were arming themselves again, although there were less of them.  He thought he could make out the train’s shape in the distant fog.

He looked at the rails and knew what he had to do. He fitted another arrowhead, and with a grimace, drew it back. The blood spilt down into his uniform, the wound being stretched open with the movement. Clint turned and fired, and the arrow seemed to fall short, but then there was a great up draft, and the arrow was carried up an unbelievable distance. It hit the rails and instantly exploded. Pieces of wood and metal flew everywhere and the men opposite were shouting, distressed. The train saw the explosion too and honked its horn. Clint heard the train applying the brakes, but he knew it was too late – the train only saw what had happened as it came around the bend and then there were less than ten meters between the first carriage and the smoking wreckage. The train hit the jagged outcrop of the broken rails and the first carriage was skewed on a piece of metal rail. The rest of the train was immediately stopped, each carriage smashing into the previous one. The train was smoking and a fire had started somewhere, but Clint had done his job – the ammunition delivery would be delayed.

Now he just had to escape without the men arming themselves from the train first. He looked back and he couldn’t see much movement, but he thought he saw men moving in the cave. He knew he had to get out of here fast, but he needed to sprint two kilometres down the out crop, and he knew he couldn’t move as fast with his gear and a wounded shoulder. He miked back to S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters.

“Come in S.H.I.E.L.D., this is Agent Hawkeye, I repeat this is Clint Barton.” He said into it, listening to the German yelling increasing in volume – they must’ve found the guns then.

“Yes Agent Hawkeye, this is S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, what is your inquiry?” The woman on the other end said.

“I have stopped the train but the Austrians have found the ammunition supplies and I am wounded. I require assistance and a pick up –“ A bullet ricocheted above his head, significantly larger. Sniper rifles were uncovered already – Clint knew they will find the bazookas soon and he just hoped they were really dumb Austrians. “As fast as you can would be great.” He said when there was no reply.

“I’m sorry Agent Hawkeye, the closest assistance is Tony Stark and he doesn’t seem to be on the grid at the moment.”

“Can you send assistance from headquarters?”

“We can but that would take much longer to arrive.” The woman’s started. “Wait, no hang on – Agent Stark is back on the grid. I will send him to come pick you up and as assistance. Stand by.” The woman put Clint on hold. Clint groaned and leant back into the shelter of the rocky alcove he had been using as a barrier. More bullets had been coming when he was conversing with the woman, and he saw how far into the rocks the bullets lodged themselves. If the rock behind him gave way now …

Suddenly Tony heard the suit power down, and he still had at least half a kilometre yet to the edge of the jungle.

“Come on –“ Tony said as he juiced the suit for the last bit of power it had, and propelled himself as far as he could. He made himself a stream line shape, and as his suit powered down, he tried to fly as far as he could without any continuous forward force. He whizzed through the air and as he was heading down, he was also heading forwards. He saw the jungle roll past under him and knew he was safe, as long as he landed in a safe manner. He saw some trees open in the jungle, right where he was landing – wasn’t he lucky?

But as he neared it and he saw the yellow colour of the ground he immediately knew that this wasn’t going to end well. He landed headfirst into the quicksand, burying himself quite deep in, blocking out all light. His suit was completely locked up, without any power – not even from the energy source in his chest. He had long ago perfected it to rely on power streamed from Stark Tower instead – much more efficient.

He groaned as he realized that there wasn’t an air supply either, and he realized the suit was getting quite hot and stuffy. He really wasn’t going to die like this – not like this, without Pepper by his side, without seeing their kid. He really wasn’t going to die like this.

Not like this.

Then all of a sudden there was blue light everywhere and there were maps and scopes and he felt the suit being oxygenated again. He took a deep breath as he realized how close he was to asphyxiation.

“Sir, are you alright?” Jarvis asked.

“Yeah, yeah Jarvis I’m just fine.” Tony tried to sound sarcastic, but he was breathing quite hard. “What the hell happened?”

“There was a break in at Stark Towers, sir.”

“ _What_?” Tony yelled. Jarvis pulled up a security tape, and Tony saw men descending onto the roof of a darkened Stark Towers, probably from a helicopter.

“I was shut down and offline for exactly seven minutes and fifty seven seconds. I’m still trying to trace the source of the virus, but it’s being bounced from server to server, sir.”

“Is Pepper okay? What happened to Pepper?” Tony was spluttering.

“Yes, but I’m afraid –“

“What?” Tony cried.

“Miss Romanoff tried to fight off the attackers, and it seems she had gone into labour, sir.”

“What – well shit. Where are they now?”

“Miss Pepper and Miss Camerons are still in Stark Towers. I am sweeping the building for more intruders and Mr Rogers has offered to stay behind. Mr Banner took Ms Romanoff to the hospital.”

“What hospital?”

“I’m not sure yet, they’re yet to land.”

“ _Land_?” Tony stuttered.

“They’ve taken the helicopter, sir.”


	12. The promise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This might be a bit distressing for you guys, so brace yourselves

“Ah fuck!” Natasha yelled, slamming the dash of the helicopter, dangerous close to the buttons. Bruce tried not to grimace and guided the helicopter around a building. They were heading for the closest hospital and Bruce said had _proper medical equipment_ , which was thirty minutes away, even with a helicopter. Natasha silently cursed both him and Clint. He had put her into this situation after all. The contractions she had were usually mild discomfort followed by a sharp stab of pain, which either makes her double over or swear obscenely.

Bruce wasn’t sure what to do, really – because in Calcutta all he did was treat disease and help with grief of dead relatives, but never … pregnant women. Natasha scared him, almost. She breathed deeply as the contractions settled down, and she leant back into her seat.

“That wasn’t so bad?” Bruce offered. Natasha glared at him with her piercing blue eyes and Bruce felt himself grow cold. He looked back out onto the night-lit city and kept flying.

“Sir, there’s an incoming transmission.” Jarvis said as they were trying to power the suit out of the quicksand. With a _plop_ , the suit broke free at last, and Tony stabilized himself.

“Yep.”

“Agent Stark, this is S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, do you copy?”

“Yep.” Tony said again.

“We require you in Austria to assist Agent Barton.”

“Yep.” Tony said as his suit turned him in the direction of Clint – Jarvis locked him onto Clint’s locator. He burst through the air clouds as he headed towards the vast expense of water. He reached the edge of the North Pacific Ocean and steadied himself to regular flight. There was the sound of a mild struggle and then Maria’s voice was all he could hear.

“Tony listen to me Natasha’s gone into labour and –“

“Yep.” Tony said. “I know.”

“You know? You – oh Jarvis probably – okay then well I need you to know that Clint’s wounded, and you need to get there as quick as you can, Tony.”

“Yep.” Tony said, adding a bit of speed to his flight. Stupid guy, he probably got shot in the leg or something.

“Tony – the Austrians have an ammunition load, they’re very heavily armed.” Maria said.

Tony swerved to avoid some birds. “How heavily armed?”

“Clint’s just said that they have sniper rifles, and there are definitely bazookas in the first carriage, but it’s harder to reach. He doesn’t have much time left, Tony.”

“Jarvis, how quickly can we go?”

“We’re already pushing it at 2,000 miles an hour, sir.”

“Make us go faster.” Tony said. “I know we can.”

“At most we can push the speed to 2,500 miles an hour; any more would be beyond control and would cause massive damage to the suit if we hit flying debris.”

“How long does it take to get to Barton at 25?”

“Approximately two hours and three seconds.”

“Maria, can Barton hold out for two hours?”

“I don’t think he can, Tony.” Maria’s voice was almost quiet. “I don’t think he can.”

Tony gritted his teeth and accelerated to 2,500 miles an hour. At this speed he wouldn’t be able to dodge birds even if he saw them beforehand. Any type of turning that changed the shape of the suit cutting through the air could possibly rip parts from their sockets.

“Clint, it’s Maria.”

“Well it’s great to hear a familiar voice.” Clint tried to smile.

“Tony’s going to be long. Very long.”

“How long.”

“… He needs two hours, Clint. He needs you to hold out for two hours.” Maria paused. “Clint – Natasha’s gone into labour.”

Clint almost didn’t hear her. “What?”

“Natasha’s water broke, she was defending her and Pepper from intruders at Stark Towers and –“

“ _What_?” Clint yelled. The gunfire ceased for a second, but then resumed.

“It’s okay Clint, Steve and Bruce arrived in time. She’s fine – Bruce is flying her to a hospital.”

“ _Flying_?” Clint felt like he was going to faint.

“Clint – I need you to stay safe. For Natasha, okay? Just think of Natasha, and the twins, and you promise me you’ll stay alive for them.” Maria said. “You need to be safe, and alive, and you’re going to see your children get born goddamn it. You promise me!”

“ … Yeah. Yeah I promise.” Clint said, and then switched off his com.

“Clint? _Clint_?” Maria yelled. Everyone in the helicarrier was looking at her. Maria looked to the woman, Stephanie, and handed her back her headset. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine ma’am.” Stephanie said with wide eyes. Maria walked slowly back up to the platform while everyone else slowly got back to their work.

“It’ll be okay, Maria.” Fury murmured, dragging things on a screen. “He’s been in worse situations.”

Maria sighed. “Why don’t I believe you?”

Clint pulled out the knife from his belt, took a deep breath, and pushed the tip into the bullet wound. He didn’t cry out, but the blood was pouring out now, and he needed to get that bullet out. He was breathing heavily as he inched the knife further in, and then he felt it – the base of the bullet. He dug the knife around the tip of the bullet and tried to pull it out, but he was feeling faint, and the cold air of the mountains made him want to sleep. He pulled the blood stained knife from his wound and the glint of the blood sullied bullet was at the base of the wound. He was going to need to make the wound bigger to pull the bullet out, because it was sitting horizontally against his gash, and if he put the knife back in against it, he’ll just push it further back in. He pressed the knife against the wound and made a shallow cut, and he finally managed to pull the mangled bullet out. He gasped as the bullet piece was flicked from his wound, and he quickly pressed his wound shut with his jacket.

There was a small pool of blood around his knees, but the gunfire had ceased, and Clint realized that they had probably assumed he was dead. He rummaged in his pack for the first-aid kit, and did as best as he could to patch himself up. It was slow work, and the blood loss made Clint numb in the fingers. He stuck the knife back into its hilt, and packed everything back into the backpack. He slung the backpack around his unwounded shoulder, and peaked out at the men.

They were all gathered either around or inside the train, and none of them were looking at him. Clint took a tentative step forward, then another, and then as silently as he could, he ambled down the cliff. He only made it a few ten meters though, when he heard a shout in German that probably meant they saw him.

He took bigger strides and ran down the path, and prayed that he could make it around the bend before the other men got to their guns. He had covered three quarters of a kilometre when gun fire echoed around the valley, and shortly after bullets were everywhere. They didn’t hit Clint though – no one knew about shooting distances and how wind affects your bullets – or in this case arrows – better than Clint. The wind was strong and there was no way they were going to hit him properly. Then he heard the heavy clunking shots of sniper rifles join the chorus of regular machines guns and whatnot, and the much heavier and quicker bullets thudding dangerously closer to him.

Maybe he was wrong about those Austrians not knowing about how to fire long distances.

He was close to where he could hide behind the bend, where the men would have to move down their path too to be able to see him, but the exercise and blood coming out of his shoulder was making him woozy, and he wasn’t sure how far he still needed to go. His shoulder was screaming at him to stop, because the pain was so severe Clint was seeing double – he really shouldn’t have used it to shoot that last arrow – his ligaments were probably torn, and the chance of him firing another arrow was slim.

Then his vision got worse, and he didn’t know which path he saw was the real one; his foot pressed into thin air, and he plummeted from the path on the cliff face down into the woods.


	13. Miss Saviour

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I now realize I've made mistakes in my previous chapters, but 'm not going to go back and correct them, since some of the repercussions would involve rewriting some chapters, and I just don't have time for that. I do my best to research really hard for my stories(for example I learned a lot about ballet in preparation for the Nutcracker) - in this case the pregnancy and such, but since I've never had (or been near) any pregnancy experience ever, I hope you guys can forgive me for some mistakes I've made. I hope you guys continue to enjoy this fanfic though, mistakes and all!

When Jane Foster relocated again to Austria to study the Geizler phenomenon, she had to some extent become content with her life. Days and nights spent gazing at the stars and trying to figure out what they do and why they were there and sometimes simply why they were so _beautiful_ had fulfilled everything and anything Jane ever wanted in life. So when she was on her way back from a camping expedition with her dogs and they found a man in the woods, she wasn’t at all thinking that she was going to bring him home and spoil this grand illusion that stars was all she ever needed. But she did, with the help of a make shift sled and her dogs, and the fact that her research facility – with a medical bay – wasn’t that far away. He wore a uniform that she was familiar with – S.H.I.E.L.D.

His face had been a bit nicked by the branches of the trees that probably slowed his fall, and there was a wound in his shoulder. It looked pretty big and like someone had taken to a knife to it and mutilated it, but Jane did her best to disinfect it and replace the dirty bandages. She didn’t go through his bags or anything out of respect, but she did pack it safely away in a separate room, which she locked.

So when Clint woke up an hour later, groggy, dehydrated and having lost a lot of blood in a place he wasn’t familiar with at all, his first thought was that the Austrians had found him. He scrambled out of bed – if you can call hobbling out and sprawling onto the floor count as scrambled – and tried the door. Of course, it was locked – Jane didn’t want anyone finding him and asking her who he was and why she brought him here.

Clint half panicked and as he looked around the room, his eyes fell on the window. He wasn’t dressed for the Austrian weather, but if he took the blanket from the bed with him, he might be able to make a few miles before he really had to give up. Just as he was about to open the window, he saw shape in the distance. It increased in size with rapid speed, and Tony had to pull up at the last second to stop himself from shooting through the window.

“Tony!” Clint yelled as he opened the window. “Natasha’s –“

“Yeah I _know_!” Tony muttered. “We need to get you back to New York.”

“How?”

“I guess I’ll have to carry you.”

“You can’t – my shoulder’s been shot. If you try to pick me up regularly you would just make it worse.”

Suddenly the door opened and Jane stared at Clint and Tony, hovering outside the window.

“What is this?” she yelled, shutting the door softly. “And be quiet, no one knows you’re here!”

“You!” Clint pointed a finger and advanced upon her. “You kidnapped me!”

“I _saved_ you!” Jane slapped his hand away.

“Barton – that’s Jane Foster.” Tony said, putting his hand to his face. Of _course_ Barton didn’t know her – he knew about Thor but not Jane Foster. Trust Barton. “She’s sort of Thor’s girlfriend.”

“What?” Clint whipped around. “What?”

“Thor likes her, is in love with her, you know. They had to relocate her when Loki attacked because Loki knew that she was Thor’s weakness. To Poland, right?”

“And then here.” Jane corrected.

“Yeah, so I wouldn’t piss her off if I were you.”

Clint looked from between Tony and Jane, and then cleared his throat. “Thanks.”

“That’s okay.” Jane said, but neither was smiling, and neither of them was making eye contact.

“Anyway – if you guys have reveled in each other’s social skills long enough, I think it’s time to go, don’t you think so?” Tony said.

“Yeah but how? I think we’ve made it pretty clear and you can’t carry me like this.” Clint said, pointing to his shoulder. There was a dull brown-red colour as the blood was clotting up and being absorbed into the bandages.

“You could …” Jane began. Tony looked to her.

“What?” He prompted.

“Like a crane.” Jane said, picking up the blanket. “You could carry him like how they say cranes carry babies, right?”

Tony looked to Clint, and Clint definitely did not like the smile that was sitting on his face. “Oh no. No.” He backed away a bit. “Tony no. Tony stop Tony what are you doing.” He said as Tony managed to very doggedly fly into the room and land, taking the sheet from Jane.

“Come on then – do you want to see you girlfriend or not?”

“But – but not like _that_!” Clint said as Tony laid the blanket out on the floor.

“It’s gonna keep you warm too – win-win!” Tony laughed. Clint sighed in frustration and sat in the middle of the sheet. Tony gathered up the edges and looked to Jane. “Wait – we can do this outside – it’ll make take off easier.”

Jane lead them to the roof, and Tony bundled Clint up again. Clint hated this – he’s never been so humiliated. But he had to admit – it was quite warm and comfortable. Except his arms were poking in the wrong bits of him and his back was a bit achy.

“Thanks again.” He murmured through the blanket. It was meant for Jane, but she didn’t reply and Clint assumed that she didn’t hear him. Tony bunched the blanket up in his hands and hoped he could take off with only two boosters. Fortunately, Jarvis had been calculating just how much boost and what angle they had to take off at in order for this to work and they managed to get into the air.

“Bye.” Tony said before he took Clint up into the mountains and away, towards America. Jane waved and suddenly remembered something.

“Wait!” She yelled, even though she knew the take off noise was too loud for them to hear her. “Your stuff!” She yelled as she pointed downstairs, to where Clint’s backpack and bow was sitting in her office. “You forgot your … stuff.” She mumbled the last word because she knew they couldn’t hear her. Then suddenly all she could think of was Thor.

Did … did they work with Thor?


	14. A helping hand

By the time Clint arrived in New York – Natasha had already been in the hospital for close to three hours, and Pepper had arrived too, after managing to get Jarvis back online.

“He’s nearly here.” Pepper soothed Natasha as she lay in the bed. “Last time I spoke to Jarvis he said Tony was not far from here. He’s going to be fine.” Pepper rubbed Natasha’s hand.

“This sucks.” Natasha said as the contractions started – she had been given some drugs, but Natasha figures she probably dispelled the effects due to her high drug tolerance level, and the contractions still hurt. The lady in here who insisted on looking at her lady bits said that she was dilating very quickly, and she should be fully dilated in a few hours, and to just let it happen naturally.

There was a noise of disturbance outside the room – _you can’t go in there! Hey!_

Clint burst into the room, nurses trailing behind him. He was bruised and there were cuts on his face, and there was blood all over his uniform, but he was there and he was alive and Natasha was _so_ glad to see him.

“Clint oh my god –“ Natasha was gasping and she pulled him to her and she kissed him so hard that his taste numbed the pain twisting in her stomach. Pepper edged awkwardly out of the room, shutting the door behind her. She tried to calm the nurses about Clint’s appearance from the roof and demands to see her.

“Oh my god what happened to you?” Natasha panted after they broke apart, her hand still on his blood stained shoulder.

“Got shot.” Clint simply said before he kissed her again. It had only been a little over a week – but it was a week of camping on cold rocks and dehydrated food and going to sleep every night without her warmth, and he had just missed her _so much_. “I’m so sorry I left.”

“It’s okay.” Natasha said and kissed the cuts on his face, her soft fingers running over every cut and bruise. “You got shot.”

“Yeah.”

“You should get that looked at. The bleeding isn’t nor-“ Natasha grimaced as her sentence was interrupted with a contraction.

“Tasha?” Clint instantly became worried.

“Contraction.” Natasha squeezed out. She just gripped Clint’s hand really hard, and Clint nearly dropped to his knees; Natasha was crushing his hand, and he was so tired he couldn’t really fight back. Then Natasha relaxed, and she exhaled long and deeply. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Clint mirrored what she said before, rubbing his hand. His eyes were heavy and his body was sore, and Natasha saw this. She saw how he ached with each movement; saw how strained and tired his eyes were – she’s seen worse from him physically; Budapest proved that. But it was his eyes, and what his eyes said, and how tired and hooded they were. It was how emotionally exhausted he was, and Natasha just wanted him to rest.

“You’re tired.” She said, putting her hand on his hair. His skin was clammy and cold, and his eyes were red from not much sleep. “You should get some rest.”

Clint nodded, leant in and kissed her again, but it was soft and slow and Natasha felt the cut on his lip that she couldn’t see. She ran her hand through his hair and rested it on the base of his neck, which was strangely hot. Clint settled his head down against his arms on the side of Natasha’s bed, and she listened to his deep breathing that was returning to a steady tempo. His back rose slightly with each breath, and Natasha realized how much she missed him in her bed every night. She hadn’t really noticed before because she couldn’t cuddle much with Clint – the bump was in the way in more ways than one, and she was used to just simply waking up and him being _there_.

But he had been gone a week and Natasha didn’t know what he had to go through to get here – she just knew she was really grateful to whoever helped him, and for just having him love her, and to soon have children with him, and for him to be here now, sleeping peacefully – if rather battered and bruised – safe here, where they could protect each other.

Yes – Clint was here now, and she could protect him, and he could protect her, and everything was right again.

Outside, Pepper had found out that Tony was back too, and ran up to the roof to find him. She found him sitting on a piece of metal that was the exhaust for one of the ventilation shafts, and his suit was scratched and blackened in areas. It was evident it was a tough fight in the Caribbean’s.

“Hey, what are you doing up here?” Tony said, getting up. He had taken his helmet off, but he couldn’t take off the rest of the suit without the help of Stark Tower. Literally. He had built in disassembly bays everywhere in Stark Tower. He could practically put the suit on and take it off wherever he wanted – call it paranoia, but there was even one fitted in the toilets.

“I heard you took Barton back.” Pepper said.

“Yeah – put this around you, it’s too cold up here.” Tony said, offering her the blanket. Pepper frowned, but took it, wrapping it around her.

“Where did you get this?”

“From Thor’s girl.”

“What?”

“You probably don’t know her – Jane Foster? The Astrophysicist?”

“Oh,” Pepper laughed, then suddenly stopped. “No.”

“Oh.”

“Why do you have her blanket?” Pepper said, emphasizing the next words. “From. _Her. Bedroom?”_

Tony put his hands up. “No no it’s not like that! It was Barton –“ Pepper raised an eyebrow. “No! I mean it wasn’t _Barton_ Barton. She saved him!”

“Oh yeah, because _Jane_ ,” Pepper tried to put apostrophes around the name, as if Tony had made it up. “fought off Austrians, the ones that _Clint Barton, master agent_ couldn’t.”

“No! It was a heroism thing, she found him and took him back to her lab and patched him up! You should be grateful, if it wasn’t for her Barton wouldn’t be here.” Tony said, undignified.

“Oh.” Pepper’s features softened. “I’m sorry. It’s the pregnancy, I just … I’m sorry.”

Tony looked to her and simply melted. “No Pepper don’t – oh don’t cry I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have – oh please stop.”

“I’m sorry for this, but I can’t stop.” Pepper said, tears running out of her eyes like she had turned on a faucet somewhere. She leant up to kiss him, and then the moon came out and Pepper saw that there was an ugly black bruise running across his chin and down his armour. There was a cut on his eyebrow that had closed up but the blood had run down and dried around his eye and nose. She tried to kiss him gently, and Tony had responded.

“Thanks for bringing Barton back safe.” She murmured, and Tony nodded as they parted.

“I just hope he can do the same for me if the situation calls for it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've already got the next chapter planned out, so if you wanted a specific next chapter, feel free to comment it and stuff, just know it won't change what I write for the next chapter it'sall :)


	15. It's time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um maybe I have to warn you guys. I don't know, honestly. Just if you get down there and ... just know I tried to warn you (sort of).

“What are you going to call them?” Pepper whispered softly as Natasha moved her hand over her belly. Sweat matted her hair slightly to her forehead and her sheets were tangled around her – like Natasha had

“Elsa and Aleksandr, they were my parents’ names apparently.” Natasha whispered back. Pepper smiled, but then she frowned.

“What if it’s identical?” Pepper said.

“What?” Natasha said, and then her face dimmed. “Oh. Oh my god we never considered it.” She burst into quiet laughter. “We must’ve just assumed that it would be a boy and a girl.” Natasha looked to Clint, and smoothed a hand over his hair – he stirred but didn’t wake. “I’ll ask him when he wakes up.” She smiled softly. She turned to Pepper, who was sitting opposite Clint. “What about you guys?”

“Juliet or Jethrow.” Pepper waved her hands around. “We wavered from them in the past few months – at one point we were going to change it to Amy and Rory – my childhood best friend and his friend who was an archaeologist who saved his life. But I just saw him before, and it’s definitely Juliet or Jethrow now.”

“Yeah we did too – don’t get me wrong; Barton was very willing – I was the one who kept changing my mind. I think I was fanatical about Ezra and Aubrey for a few days before I realized that I was just arguing with myself.”

“You know, Natasha,” Pepper took her hand. “You know that the children will change everything, right? I mean – you probably won’t be able to go on missions, and … you’ll be more vulnerable.”

Natasha looked down at her belly, rubbed a circle on it again. “I know. I know what having these babies mean, but I also know how much they mean to Clint –“ She looked over at him. “– and what they mean to me, now.” She looked back at Pepper. “I know about these things, but do you?”

Pepper looked to the door – maybe Tony was sitting just outside. “Yes. I’ve been … in worse situations when it came to people who’ve wanted to hurt Tony. But I also know that Tony understands what this means, and I’m sure we’re both willing to do whatever it takes to protect our child.”

Natasha gave Pepper a wane smile. “So you didn’t want to know the sex of the baby then?”

Pepper smiled back and shook her head. “You guys obviously didn’t want to.”

“Not really – it wasn’t an option with the resident doctor.”

“I figured S.H.I.E.L.D. would’ve had better medical accommodations than that.”

Natasha laughed. “They’re prepared for almost any injury – burns, cuts, frostbite – you name it.” She grimaced with a smile. “But they’re not exactly fully prepared for a pregnant agent. It’s not a commonplace thing, you know. I was lucky they had a doctor who had experience with pregnancies and they still had an old ultrasound machine.”

The door opened and the nurse came back in – she requested to look at Natasha’s lady bits again. “Ooh you’re nearly fully dilated!” She looked at Clint. “Is this the father? Lucky man.” She whispered suggestively. “I’ll grab the doctor and we’ll see if you’re ready to push.” She left and Natasha looked to Pepper, who gave her hand a supportive squeeze.

“Good luck.” She said, and stood to go – but Natasha kept her grip on Pepper’s hand. “Do you want me to stay?” Natasha nodded. But when Pepper looked to Natasha’s face, there was fear planted there. “What’s wrong?”

“I’ve remembered something.” Natasha whispered. “I’ve remembered something – something they did to us at the Black Widow Program.”

Pepper sat back down frowning, concerned. “What? What is it?”

Natasha’s eyes were wide and she looked smaller, more scared. She grabbed Pepper’s arm. “I won’t be able to do it, Pepper. I won’t be able to push. They’ll have to perform a caesarean, Pepper. You have to tell them.”

“What? Natasha it’ll be fine – you’ll be able to push just fine! Just because it’s twins doesn’t mean it’ll –“

“No, Pepper listen to me.” Natasha’s voice was hard but quiet, and it sliced through the thick silence that was now sitting in the room. “Pepper listen. You have to listen. They trained us, Pepper. They trained our bodies to reject pregnancies. We weren’t supposed to be able to conceive, but they trained us to not be able to give birth. There has to be a caesarean, Pepper. There has to be or else the twins won’t live. Pepper you have to tell them.” Natasha’s tone was hurried, like there was a sudden rush of memories that had just come back to her. Natasha’s face showed sudden understanding and it was clear that this memory really had just come back to her just then. “They trained us, Pepper. They trained our bodies to feel pain when there were contractions, they trained our muscles to lock up when we’re ready to push – I won’t be able to – I – I won’t be able to –“

“Natasha it’s okay,” Pepper tried to sooth her, cradling Natasha’s bumbling head in her arms. “Natasha, I’ll tell them, it’ll be okay.” Natasha was quiet in Pepper’s arms. “Natasha?”

Clint stirred and looked up, and when he saw Natasha – with her eyes closed in Pepper’s arms, he needed a moment to process the situation. “What’s going on?”

“Natasha’s – you need to get the Doctor. They need to perform a caesarean,” Pepper’s tone was afraid now – Natasha had said nothing about becoming unconscious.

“What? Why –“

“ _Hurry_!” Pepper yelled, and it jolted Clint into action, him fumbling from his seat and running out the door. His shoulder was aching and all the bruises had settled down into his body, making every limb on his body swear in pain. Pepper smoothed the hair from Natasha’s face, sitting down by her bed to try and get a response – that she was alright. “Natasha? Natasha, sweetie, please just open your eyes. Please just open your eyes and tell me what’s going on. Just – Natasha, Clint’s gone to get the doctor, just open your eyes so I know you’re okay.” Her eyes were welling up. _No, no Natasha’s going to be okay._ She wiped away a tear. _She’s going to be okay. She’s going to be fine._

The nurse reappeared with two other nurses, as well as the doctor. “We need to get her into an operating theatre immediately.” The nurse was saying, and they had to haul Natasha onto the wheeled bed to carry her away. Pepper was reluctant to let go, but she followed their every move, hanging by the doctor’s side.

“You need to perform a caesarean, you don’t understand. She can’t push – her – her muscles won’t let her, you need to get the babies out, she needs you to get the babies out, oh god.” She was saying, and she looked like she was going to start crying there and then.

“She gave consent, right? Okay we’ll take care of it.” The doctor said before they all disappeared out of the room and down the corridor. Clint followed them, feeling every one of his muscles complain with every strain, and absorbing that feeling – _this is what you’ll feel all the time if you leave her alone now, in that operating theatre on that table_. They got into an operating theatre down the hall, and when a male nurse tried to stop Clint – _I’m sorry we can’t let you_ the words ‘ _in there_ ’ dried up in his throat as Clint gave him a look that was so sharp and threatening it could’ve turned into a bumbling mess.

“She’s my wife.” Clint growled with a voice that wasn’t him and charged into the room. The nurses had already hooked Natasha up to machines and strapped an oxygen mask on her face – they cleansed her stomach where the tarp had been left open for the operation, and the doctor prepped himself quickly. Clint stood by the wall, not sure whether or not he wanted to see this but sure that he needed to be here if Natasha needed him.

The doctor took the scalpel and made a quick slick cut across Natasha’s abdomen. The blood was suddenly everywhere and Clint had to look down, at one of the wheels of the bed. The red was like Natasha’s hair and it was the only colour Clint could see behind his eyes. When he took a deep breath and looked back up again, there was an unimaginable amount of blood on the tarp, and everywhere, and the glare of the light on top of her made the blood shine like polished blood diamonds.

Clint wanted to grab the doctor and beat him until his face was unrecognisable or his hands break – whichever came first. This was _his_ Natasha that he was hurting – that he was _cutting open_ and Clint just about jumped him. He tightened and loosened his fingers – one by one, until he could almost feel the knuckles turn white. Normally he would’ve already let loose an arrow into the soft cavity between the two vertebras in the back of the doctor’s neck.

He wanted to protect Natasha and yet he couldn’t because she needed this and the twins needed this and Clint just didn’t know what to do. He was sure he could understand Bruce’s struggle – it was like someone inside of him was clawing at his skin, trying to get out, and it was just bubbling anger and hatred with gnarled nails and black and dead eyes. It was indescribable – the amount of pain he felt from this helplessness and from containing himself. He closed his eyes but he could still hear the doctor working things free and away, out of the way. His keen ears identified and matched every noise, and then there was another noise – the soft _drip drip_ of a liquid. Clint looked down and saw drops of blood by his foot. He opened his hands and the palms were covered with blood, and for one second Clint thought he was in a nightmare and it was Natasha’s blood on his hands. Then he realized that he had pressed so hard with his fingers he had drawn blood, and he messily wiped it on his pants. He wanted so desperately to protect Natasha, and he couldn’t, and it was killing him.

He might as well have just taken a knife to himself – it would’ve been less painful.


	16. A visitor

“How is she?” Pepper asked, wringing her hands against her dress. “Is she okay? Are the twins okay? Is –“

“Yeah.” Clint managed, his eyes trailing on the floor. “She’s … yeah.”

“Well where is she? Is she okay? Are the twins okay? Where are they? Are –“

“Yeah.” Clint interrupted her again. “Yeah. They’ve just taken … the babies to … do stuff.”

“Clint are you okay?” Tony finally said, moving close and crossing his arms. He was still in the suit and people were staring, whispering.

“Yeah.” Clint ran his hands through his hair, and slowly dropped to a crouch, covering his face with his hands. “God, Tony. There was so much blood.” His voice came out muffled and slightly broken.

“Clint – are you okay?” Pepper knelt beside him, and put a hand on his shoulder. Clint wore only the undershirt of his uniform, and through the fabric she could feel the heat rising off his skin. “Oh my god. You’re burning up.” She pressed a hand against Clint’s forehead, which was scorching. “You are running the highest fever, Clint. Oh my god.”

“There was so much blood, oh god.” Clint said again, almost sobbing. “So much _blood_.”

“We need a doctor – _nurse_!” Pepper yelled, but no one came. “Clint – stay with me, okay? Do you feel sick? Do you feel nauseous? Tony, go!” She waved a hand and Tony was running clumsily down the corridor, and then he accidentally took the edge of the reception counter off when he leant on it, and demanded a doctor, _someone_ to take care of Clint.

They did manage to get Clint onto a bed, and the nurses gave him some shots to stabilize the fever. Clint struggled when they tried to undress him so they could take a better look at his wound, but one of the shots must’ve been a tranquiliser because then he just went limp and his eyes rolled back into his head and the nurses set up a drip.

They cleaned the wound as best as they could, and they left with a pan full of bandages. The nurses had put on proper thick bandages and put his arm in a sling, just in case he tried to use it when he got up again. His fever was going down, and he was only sleeping now, and Pepper decided that she could leave. She asked the nurses where Natasha was, and they said the thing she had been waiting to hear.

“She’s woken up, she’s breast feeding at the moment, so you should come back later.” But then the other nurse whispered in the head nurse’s ear, and she smiled. “Are you miss Potts?”

Pepper nodded enthusiastically. “She requests that we ask you what were you two making in Stark Tower just before now.”

Pepper frowned. “… Banana bread? Why? Does she want some? I can get some –“

“No, miss. It’s okay.” The nurse quickly soothed Pepper’s arm from her purse. “She’s just asked us to check that you really _are_ Miss Potts. She said that she needed to be sure, that’s all.” She smiled.

“Oh. Of course.” Pepper laughed it off. _Of course_.

The nurses opened the door and Pepper wasn’t sure what she was expecting. It was a different room and the light was dimmer, but she could still see that the curtains were drawn and there were plants and that Natasha’s bed was behind the door.

“We’ll come back for the babies in half an hour, keep trying.” The nurse smiled and closed the door behind Pepper. Natasha was sitting up on the bed, leaning against a few pillows. Her top was lifted but she had a small baby in each arm, which obscured all view with their small and slightly hairy heads.

“Hey.” Natasha smiled wanly. Her hair was matted and stuck up in some places and in other it was swept back up away from her face. Pepper smiled back and quickly crossed the room, sitting by her.

“They’re so beautiful.” She cooed, rubbing a finger against the bottom of the foot of the baby closest to her. “They’re …?”

“Both girls.” Natasha said, and then quietly laughed. “So it’s Elsa and no-name for now.” She looked at Pepper with her tired green eyes. “Where’s Clint?”

Pepper hoped her face didn’t betray any distressed emotions, because she didn’t want to put Natasha through that right now. “He’s resting.”

“Oh. I’ll just have to ask him later then.” She said, slightly rocking the babies. One of them made a noise, like it was about to cry. “Oh no, no,” Natasha quietly soothed her baby. “Come on, just put it in your mouth. It’s good. Come on …”

“Trouble with feeding?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe. It’s like I repel them. Come on.”

“Can I hold one?”

Natasha’s arms moved instinctively away from Pepper, bringing the babies further away from her. But it was a split second, and then she relaxed. “Sure. They’re not doing anything with me anyway.”

She let Pepper take the one cradled in her left arm, and Pepper had a very fun time resting the baby on her arms as well as her bump.

“Hi.” Pepper cooed, wriggling her face closer to the baby, whose eyes weren’t even open. “She looks like you.” She smiled.

The baby girl’s silky hair was a dark brown, and her skin was milky and pale. Her lips were pouted, which Pepper recognised immediately as a trait that Natasha’s passed on, and it looked like she was sucking. “Aren’t you hungry?” Pepper asked, knowing she won’t get a reply. But then the baby stirred and turned her head, as if to say _no_.

Pepper looked to Natasha, who was looking at the other baby, bearing extreme similarities. So identical then, she thought, feeling a little jealous. It wasn’t like she won’t have one of her own, but seeing Natasha with hers already, with _two_ of them, it just made Pepper a little anxious to have her's too.

“All in good time, Potts.” She said to herself as she turned back around, facing the baby girl.

“Pepper!” Natasha yelled, and if not for the bump, Pepper would’ve nearly dropped the baby. She turned quickly, thinking that something had happened. It had.

“Look!” Natasha said excitedly; the baby was sucking, and Natasha reached for Pepper’s one. “Maybe she’ll copy her.” Pepper passed the baby on, and sure enough – the twins were happily suckling away a few second later.

“Thank god.” Natasha said, leaning back into the bed. Pepper realized that she had been hearing what sounded like loud and heavy footsteps coming down the corridor for the past few second now, and just as she looked to the door it opened, and a bruised and battered but un-geared Tony walked in, saw Natasha with her top pushed up to her neck, and immediately averted his eyes and put a hand up to block the view.

“Hi. Um. Hi.” He said, looking right and up, where there was a tv attached to the corner of the room. “How are the babies?”

“Fine, thanks.” Natasha said, a little smirk playing on her lips. “Twin girls.”

“Congratulations.” Tony said, and then looked immediately at Pepper, skipping over Natasha. “Maybe I should come back later?”

“It’s okay, I’ll come with you. We’ll go see if Clint’s awake.” Pepper said, getting up from her seat with some difficulty. Tony was going to go and help but as soon as he moved his hand to rush over his eyes darted up again and he resumed his stance. He cleared his throat and Pepper and Natasha shared a look.

“Yeah, there’s someone outside for you, Natasha.” Tony said, and Pepper gave Natasha a little look.

“Who, Tony?” Pepper asked, taking his hand, and Tony lead her out, and Natasha heard Pepper say _oh my_.

So the door closed for a few seconds, leaving Natasha in anticipation, with a baby in each arm. She could suddenly hear the hum of the electric lights and see clearer outside the hospital window. The drugs were probably settling down, and her sharp assassin’s training was returning to her, now that the baby hormones were reducing. Then the door opened, and someone walked in.

“Agent Romanoff.” Director Fury said, putting his hands behind his back. “Congratulations.”


	17. Making things okay

“Director Fury.” Natasha simply said, and there was no awkward air between them; he’s seen her in worse situations. She’s been in worse situations.

Nick Fury was a respectable man, and was respectful of the people around him, especially women, so his gaze never left Natasha’s, save the floor. Natasha didn’t know what he was here for, but she didn’t really care, not really. She had her life in her arms, and nothing was going to make her care about anything other than them.

“Twin girls.” Fury said, walking over and taking a seat next to her. Natasha smiled faintly, taking a look between her girls.

“Yeah.” Her smile grew wider, and she was warm inside, and she didn’t know why, and she didn’t care why, and she loved it. These girls were hers, they were hers and Clint’s. Her’s. And Clint’s. She let that sink in, and let that sink in and melt into the base of her heart, where less than nothing ever went, not since she was born. She let her girls sink into the base of her heart, and she kept them there.

Fury reached out a rough and steady finger, brushed the tip of the baby girl’s hair, and gave a quiet huff of a laugh. “They’re beautiful kids.” Then he chuckled outright. “Kids. Natasha Romanoff has kids.” And then he looked back to the floor and let his hand fall back into his lap.

“You’re here, Director Fury.” Natasha said, and Fury nodded in agreement, knowing full well what she meant, that she meant to ask _why_ he was here.

“We’re going to need to make changes, Agent Romanoff.” He said, and Natasha didn’t do anything, didn’t make any sign. “Changes to your assignments, your role and position in S.H.I.E.L.D. We’re going to need to change a lot of things.”

“I know.” She said, looking to her girls. _My girls_. “I understand.”

“What I actually came here to discuss was something different.”

“I know.”

There was a bit of a pause, and Natasha saw Fury smile out of the corner of her eye. “We need to discuss Clint Barton’s status at S.H.I.E.L.D.” Fury said.

“Why don’t you ask him?” Natasha said. Fury considered telling her of his condition, he really did, but it wasn’t his to say, so he cleared his throat.

“You’re the mother. It was fitting.”

Natasha took a heavy breath. “What did you want to do with Clint’s status?”

“That depends on you.” Fury said. “That depends on your condition with him, and your condition altogether.”

“You want to lower it.”

“I want to lower it.”

Natasha was silent. She was silent for a long while, and Fury let her be silent. Let her breathe quietly and steadily for what seemed like an hour, but was really fifty seven minutes, and both of them knew without looking at any clock. She considered letting Clint go on lower risk missions, considered everything, considered her babies.

“Do it.” She said finally, and her voice was steadier than Fury’s ever heard it, at least on personal matters. Now Fury was silent, as if he was making a mental note. Then he turned to the baby, touched her hair with his rough, his steady finger again, and stood.

“Good night Agent Romanoff.” He said, opening the door.

“Good night, Director Fury.” Natasha said, and Fury opened the door, only to have Pepper run in, into Fury.

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry, sorry – Natasha, you have to come, come now – can you?” Pepper said, distressed.

Natasha’s eyes widened, but then she looked to the babies in her arms, as if to say _of course but how_? That’s when Nick Fury volunteered as tribute.

So Natasha followed Pepper down the hospital hallways, while Nick Fury, director of S.H.I.E.L.D., executor of forms that killed people, boss of several deadly assassins, was holding and soothing two babies, both of which belonged to his top assassin, sitting in her hospital room, and he was doing a fantastic job. The doctors insisted on checking on Natasha’s C-section though, because women weren’t supposed to be hurrying down corridors only hours after getting one, but they were stunned at Natasha’s level of self repair, and they, reluctant and stunned, let her go.

“He’s just in there.” Pepper said, letting Natasha into the hospital room first. Bruce and Steve were sitting on chairs by the wall, Sharlene was sitting on the armrest of Steve’s chair. Tony was sitting on the other side of Clint’s bed and Natasha sat down next to Clint.

He looked bad – he was pale and covered in sweat, and his eyes moved restlessly under their heavy and dark lids. He was muttering and his hands gripped and loosened around his sheets. Natasha looked over him, his twisted and sickly condition, and simply looked to the rest of the team.

“Leave.” She said, and Tony immediately stood up. Bruce had to look to Steve, who was looking to Sharlene, who was taking his hand and already leading him out the door. Almost everyone in the room seemed to know that Natasha and only Natasha could make Clint okay, even if some were slightly sceptical of whether or not their absence from the room mattered.

When the room was empty and silent save for the _beep beep_ of the monitors, Natasha put a hand on Clint’s forehead, felt his feverish temperature, and simply leant in to leave a kiss. She tasted the salt, she tasted the infection, and she tasted Clint, and it settled her.

The monitor’s beeping was slowing down, and even though there was still a fever, she heard Clint murmur her name. Then as if in a clichéd miracle scenario, Clint opened his eyes just a fraction, enough to see Natasha sitting there with her hand on his forehead; enough to sooth him.

“Tasha.” He whispered, his hiss barely audible, and Natasha just knew how much pain he was in. She’s seen him in all sorts of situations, in unbelievable situations, in impressive situations, in disgusting situations, in the worst situations impossible, and she knew his body and body language better than any other person on earth. They were almost one person, the inseparable and impregnable pair. That’s how she knew he was going to be okay. That’s how she dispels all bullshit when people didn’t believe her.

Because she _was_ him, deep down inside, and he was her, deep down, too.

Clint wet his lips and whispered her name again, and this time opened his eyes for a little longer. “Tasha. You’re okay.” And Natasha knew it was a question, he just didn’t have the strength to weld his words.

“You nearly died.” She simply said. Clint gave a husky and weak laugh.

“Yeah.”

“Don’t do it again.” Natasha said, before she leant in and kissed him.


	18. Safe and sound

Clint put a hand roughly where Natasha’s abdomen was, and he gave a look. He was fine now, the nurses had all checked him over and just told him to stay in bed and rest. Natasha offered to stay behind and let the rest of the team head back for some sleep until the morning. It had taken a few hours, tense hours of the team worrying and Natasha’s companionship, but Clint had overcome the infection, like she knew he would. She had climbed into bed with him; she wasn’t a huge person, so Clint only had to move slightly over and wrap his free arm around her shoulders.

“I’m fine, Clint.” She said, returning a different look. She leant over kissed him, as if to convince him. “I’ve been through worse, you know that.”

“ _Natasha_.” He said, and Natasha knew what she had to tell him. She knew what he meant, simply by him saying her _name_ , in that _way_.

“I didn’t know.”

“You didn’t know.”

“It was the brainwashing. We wouldn’t remember until it was too late.” Natasha said, looking down at her now much flatter stomach, as if she missed having the bump there. “It’s a defence mechanism. It was training our defence mechanisms. They’d hook us up to a machine, replicate a contraction, and teach our bodies to defend against it. It taught our bodies that after enough contractions, we’d be dilated, and then it taught our muscles to lock up, so that nothing could get through.” She looked back up at Clint. “I didn’t know.”

“I believe you.” Clint said, kissing her forehead, and tasting a bit of sweat, which stung the small cuts he couldn’t see on his lips. “It’s alright now.”

“It’s twin girls.”

Clint smiled into her hair, a huff of a weak laugh ruffling the red. “Girls.”

“Yeah.” Natasha said, tracing shapes with her fingers on the sling Clint had. “We need another name.”

Then Clint laughed, and he laughed for a bit, and then he settled down. “Right, two girls, two names. How did we miss that again?”

“I don’t know.” Natasha laughed. “We really shouldn’t have though.”

“Oh no.” Clint gave her a look, and they both laughed again.

Then they were silent for a bit, and it was a mutual silence, because Natasha was letting Clint decide, and Clint was letting Natasha let him. Then when Natasha had almost ridden the rise and fall of Clint’s chest with each breath into sleep, he spoke.

“Senja.” He said, and he looked at her, and his tone wasn’t demanding, wasn’t pleading, wasn’t hurtful, wasn’t anything that Natasha didn’t like. “Don’t ask.”

“I like it.” She simply said, and put her head back under his chin again. “I like it.”

That was enough for Clint; that had taken it out of him and they both slept there, in his hospital room, at least until the nurses came back to check on him in the early morning.

Back at Stark Towers, not a lot of people were resting.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Tony said, and Pepper laughed, but it was a tired laugh.

“Yes, I’m fine. Natasha was supposed to be due for this week anyway, I only have one baby to deliver. Don’t worry, you won’t miss it.”

“I love you.” Tony said, and Pepper smiled and gave him a kiss. “I’ll see you soon.” He said, and the cover of his helmet slammed down, and he gave a little wave and took off from the platform.

“Miss Potts, would you like me to give you hourly updates on Mr Stark’s progress?” Jarvis asked, and Pepper shook her head.

“No thank you Jarvis. Just wake me if something really important happens.” She said, yawning. “I think I have to go to bed now.”

“Of course, Miss Potts.” Jarvis said, and lit the way to the elevator. Tony was still listed as an active Avenger, at least until Thursday, and his job in the Caribbean’s wasn’t exactly finished. Steve was waiting on some macaroni and cheese that Sharon was making him, because he just _didn’t understand all of this new fancy cooking technology_. Bruce was down in one of the labs working on his current project because he’s _got some free time and might as well do it_.

The elevator dinged and Steve thought it was Pepper, who had forgotten something. But Maria walked out, gave him a look, and gestured to follow her. Steve looked to Sharlene, who had her back to him, had an exasperated internal struggle, and followed Maria out onto the balcony. He didn’t want to deal with her, not right now, but he was Steve Rogers goshdarnit and he wasn’t going to push things off like that. He was going to face them and he was going to fix them.

“Listen, I’m really sorry but –” Steve said, but Maria cut him off, and she looked different, like something was wrong in her personal life.

“No, I’m sorry.” She said, and she was tucking her hands into her folded arms. “I was so immature about the whole thing, and I just wanted to apologise.”

Steve didn’t know what to say. “Uh. Um thanks. Thank you. That’s very polite of you.” He nodded each sentence to himself, as if approving of his own wordsmith work.

“So I hope there are no hard feelings about this whole thing.” Maria said, and she was shivering a little.

“Yeah. I mean, yeah. No. No hard feelings. Um, yeah I’m sorry. I’m just – it’s like having Peggy back again, and I don’t mean I’m substituting Sharon as Peggy, because that’s horrible, because she’s her own self, and I love her because she’s her and –“

“You love her?” Maria said.

Steve paused, as if he just heard what he said repeated back to him. “Yeah. Yes I do. I do, and I’m sorry that I can’t return your feelings, Maria.”

“What?” Maria said with a small smile on her face. “Wait, did you think – “ And then she doubled over, laughing. “Oh my god! You thought I liked you? No! I mean, no! Oh my god!”

Steve was way past confusion at this point, and embarrassment was flooding in. “What? You … You didn’t like me?”

“Oh no! I mean, no of course I did! But it was like having a brother I never had!” She put a hand on Steve’s arm, and he could feel her shake from suppressing her laughter. “No! But I mean, that wasn’t why at all!”

“What? You didn’t get mad at me because I didn’t like you back?”

“No! Of course not!” Maria said, and she frowned a little, still laughing. “You mean you don’t know?”

“Don’t know what?”

“I’m …” Maria paused a bit before she continued. “I like girls, Steve.”

“You’re what?” He said. Now understand that in the year where he came from, the 1940s – being gay was illegal. Steve kind of looked around, and then put his hand over Maria’s mouth. “Don’t say that! Do you want to go to jail? Did you tell anyone else?” He hissed.

Maria managed to loosen his grip. “What? No, Steve, it’s fine! You’re in the twenty-first century, and I know this might be a bit of a shock and hard to understand, but it’s fine to be gay here. It’s fine for men to like men, it’s fine for women to like women, it’s fine for some people to like both, it’s fine to have more than one wife –“ and then she laughed when she saw Steve trying to comprehend all this.

“Wait.” Steve said, shaking his head as if to clear his mind. “Does this mean –“

“That I liked Sharon too? Yeah. Pretty much.”


	19. Bringing the girls home

The room was hushed and feelings were being exchanged and traded – nervousness, excitement, belated joy, so on so forth. They had been told to be very quiet, because they had managed to get the babies to sleep before they left the hospital, and they didn’t want to wake them just yet.

“They’re here, Miss Potts.” Jarvis said, and the elevator opened. Everyone was ready, eyes wide open. Natasha looked tired, and Clint looked tired, but overall they looked content, and they each had on a little smile.

“Hey guys.” Clint murmured, one finger soothing the baby in his arms. He took a moment to let everyone give their own little greeting – a murmur, a small wave. “I’d like you all to meet Elsa and Senja.”

Clint and Natasha each had a baby wrapped in a pink blanket, and it was clear they were asleep. Their small fragile eyes were closed, and they looked every part a perfect baby – the sparse hair on their heads, their small wrinkled fingers, their milky and soft looking skin. Everyone could see the similarities between the two babies, and their parents – it was clear who these babies belonged to.

“Oh they’re so beautiful!” Maria instantly melted, her voice was a quiet hiss and she reached for one of the babies. Natasha let her hold her one, and Maria cradled the baby very carefully, very close to her face. “Hi, hello baby girl, look at you.” She said, her voice barely audible, and she turned to Natasha and Clint. “Which one is this one?”

Natasha pointed out a tag that was attached to the bottom of the blanket, which had a serial number and information about the baby. The baby Clint was holding had one too, so for now the parents could still tell who was who.

“Hello Senja, hello, your name is so pretty yes it is.” Maria said after a second, and the baby stirred a tiny bit, so Maria began to gently bounce her as she started to walk around the room slowly. “Sh, it’s okay, aw.”

“Can I?” Sharon walked over, and hesitantly reached out. She felt like she was still a stranger to Natasha and Clint, and felt uncomfortable even asking, but she just really liked babies, and call it her maternal instinct, but she just wanted to hold one. Clint, who was holding the other baby - Elsa, looked to Natasha. Natasha looked to Sharon, and then at Steve, who was looking at Sharon with a hint of doting in his eyes. She paused, and then nodded minutely. “Sure.”

Clint handed the baby over very slowly, very carefully, almost unwillingly. But he trusted Natasha’s judgement, and even though Natasha had known about Sharon and her level of skill recognised at S.H.I.E.L.D., she still subtly followed her as she walked around with Elsa, Steve next to her. Sharon wouldn’t drop her, but that wasn’t what Natasha was worried about.

“Where’s Tony?” Clint asked Pepper, the only one left – Bruce had gone off to share Maria’s baby since Elsa seemed crowded. He had hoped to have a bit of a dad-to-dad-to-be chat, and Pepper waved her hand nonchalantly.

“He’s still an Avenger, he won’t be back until Thursday.” She gave him a tight smile. “Unless this little darl decides to pop out early.”

“So tomorrow?”

“Is it really that soon?” Pepper laughed. “Yeah, tomorrow then.”

“How do you feel?”

“Nervous, excited – is it too early to say a little nauseous?”

Clint laughed and tucked his hands into his pockets. “Don’t worry, it’s worth it.” He looked over Pepper’s shoulder at Natasha, who was receiving Elsa back from Sharon, and gave Pepper a goofy grin. “Trust me.”

“Nat!” Maria yelled, and Natasha was there before anyone realized she was moving. “Oh my god.” Maria breathed, and the rest of the ground crowded around her, Clint next to Natasha. “It’s … Beautiful.”

Senja was finally awake, and her little eyes were swivelling and blinking at everyone and everything around her, as if she was memorizing everyone’s faces. She looked curious, alert – Clint chuckled a little bit because it didn’t look too far off to what Natasha’s face looked like a little bit sometimes. Except Senja’s eyes weren’t the same colour. Her left eye was a clear blue, and Natasha could only thing of Clint’s eyes when he was under Loki’s spell. The other was a pale green, a shade lighter than Natasha’s own, and only a small sliver across the bottom was blue.

“Genetic mutation.” Bruce murmured, adjusting his glasses and leaning in closer. “It’s nothing harmful, just a simple physical modification.”

Maria glared at him. “Alright but don’t make it sound so harsh, god.” She muttered. “Mutation, that’s not what we’ll call it, is it Senja?” She said to the baby. “It’ll just a special unique thing you have, oh yes.” Then Maria looked to Natasha, who was holding Elsa. “Unless your sister is the same too?”

“I highly doubt it.” Bruce said, and Maria ignored him.

“It’s just her.” Natasha said, because Elsa’s eyes had just opened too, as if in response to her sibling, and she was drinking in all that was around her, except her eyes were both Clint’s clear blue. “Only Senja has the mutation.”

“Jeez okay we’ll just all denounce your daughter’s gift then, shall we?” Maria muttered, then returned to playing with Senja.

“It’s not a gift.” Natasha said, and she sounded serious, so Maria was more concerned at the hidden meaning.

“Maybe it is, Tasha.” Clint said, putting a hand around her shoulder. “It means she won’t risk her life, she won’t go into your job. She can’t – she’s too recognisable.”

“There are contacts, ways, dangerous, expensive ways to fix that.”

“But she won’t, Tasha.”

“Have you seen them lately?” Natasha looked to him, but now she was smiling a little, so maybe it wasn’t something very serious. “They’re synchronised, and you think they’re not going to do whatever the other is doing?”

Clint didn’t say anything, and looked to the others for help.

“You don’t know, I mean children can be very unpredictable.” Steve offered.

Natasha sighed. “Yeah, I know. I’m just saying – I don’t want them to do what I do, because of the reasons I do it.” Everyone knew what she meant. The red in Natasha’s ledger was like the red string of destiny, and no matter whom the descendents were, the stain was going to be passed down in generations, unless something was changed. “Unless –“

“Unless they take my name.” Clint said, looked to Senja and Elsa, with their brownish hair, their mostly blue eyes. They more or less resembled him, save the perk lips, pastel skin, certain features and maybe skill set, they could easily pass off as someone who wasn’t related to Natasha, if people didn’t bring the name _Romanoff_ up. If they took _Barton_ as their last name, they could maybe have a regular life – if they chose that.

The rest of the gang felt like this was a private decision. “Listen, we can go, I mean we _should_ go.” Maria said.

“We will go,” Pepper finished, and lead the rest of the group out. Maria handed Senja back to Clint and followed them down the elevator.

“Unless they take your name.” Natasha confirmed, and then the elevator door closed. “If they take your name they can have everything I didn’t have. Except for a perfect man to love.”

“Or woman.” Clint said, and Natasha laughed – because of Maria.

“Or woman.”

“So that’s it, is it? Elsa and Senja Barton?” Clint said, looking at Elsa in his arms. “Elsa and Senja Barton.”

“Yes. It’s better this way.” Natasha said, and looked to Senja in her arms too.

“Does this mean you’ll change your name too?”

Natasha took her time to breathe before she replied. “No. It’s my responsibility, and I’m not going to run from it. I was born _Natasha Romanoff_ , and I’ll die _Natasha Romanoff_. But they don’t need that. The papers haven’t been done yet, they still have a chance.”

“Does this mean you’ll say no if I asked you to marry me then?” Clint said.

Natasha looked at him. “What?”


	20. The past and new futures

It was a proposal, they both knew it. Natasha knew Clint too well not to see the signs – the small lift of an eyebrow, the almost hesitant tilt of his voice. Natasha didn’t care that it wasn’t extravagant or that it wasn’t down on one knee, or that he didn’t have a ring – or maybe he did. They’ve always been accustomed to scraps, and even though they’ve managed to always gather the best scraps, they were still scraps, not the real proper thing. They’ve grown accustomed to settling for lesser bests when it came to things that happened to them.

There was a semi uncomfortable silence before Natasha’s eyes suddenly narrowed slightly, her next sentence making Clint’s spine run cold.

“Who was Senja?”

Clint blinked. Natasha’s face betrayed no obvious emotion, and he definitely hadn’t seen that coming. He clear his throat. “I said don’t ask.”

“Who was she?”

“Tasha.”

“ _Clint_.”

And Clint knew that was it – that he would _have_ to tell her, because she said his _name_. He sighed.

“Do you remember when you were accepted into S.H.I.E.L.D., when I made them change their mind when I didn’t kill you, like I was supposed to?”

Natasha nodded, but her face was now grave. Clint paused slightly before going on.

“There was someone else. Another woman. It was between you and her, and … She was better, Tasha.” Clint gave a small incredulous laugh. “She was better than Natasha Romanoff, and I convinced S.H.I.E.L.D. to accept you instead.” His eyes were a bit sad, Natasha picked it up. “They accepted you instead of her,” a small breath here was taken. “and two days after you moved into S.H.I.E.L.D. the Prussians found her and killed her.”

Natasha was frowning now, but she wasn’t mad; her eyes were slightly wide and hers brows dipped over them, like she was trying to accept the story Clint had just given her but couldn’t process it past her moral compass. It made no sense, why it bothered her so – judging by the things she’s done before.

“Why did you pick me?” And when Clint didn’t reply, didn’t look at her – just continued to look at the floor. “Why me, Clint? She was better, and I know you’re not lying. Why me?”

Clint looked her square in the eyes, and his eyes had never looked so blue, so deep and clear, so sad. “Because I was in love with you.”

Natasha knew it was coming, knew it deep in her gut and her instincts were yelling, screaming, thrashing. But she still flinched slightly, blinking almost indecisively.

“Because even though I had met Senja before you, knew her better and for longer than was needed, I was in love with you, and what do you expect me to do with that?” He almost laughed. “I was in love ever since the moment on that rooftop, when you lowered your gun at me first, and I didn’t even need to say anything. You trusted me, for some goddamned reason you trusted me, and next thing I knew I was in love with you.” He sighed quietly, took a moment to composed himself. “Because I knew if I had picked Senja instead of you, the same thing would’ve happened to you – whoever was after you would’ve found you and killed you. But I couldn’t let that happen to you, Tasha.”

Natasha didn’t say anything, but she was still frowning. She was breathing a little harder now, and she drew in a deep breath, as if to calm herself. “Get me her file.” She said as she exhaled, arms now crossed. Clint looked at her long, could only look and pray that she would change her mind, before he reluctantly nodded.

Natasha turned on her heel and begun to walk towards the elevators, with Elsa in her arms.

“Where are you going?” Clint said.

“We’re not going to take the babies into the S.H.I.E.L.D. hard archives. I’m going to get Pepper or Maria.” She said as the elevator doors opened. She turned to him. “Come.”

Clint followed obediently, because he knew that what happened next all depended on Natasha now. There was no way she wasn’t going to get what she wanted, there’s no way Clint could _not_ give her what she wanted, and the situation was in her hands now.

After Maria ecstatically accepted the role of baby sitter for a few hours, Clint and Natasha managed to get into the S.H.I.E.L.D. hard archives where they kept files on everything that’s ever happened, both digitally and physically.

There were rows and rows of computer hard drives, stacks upon stacks. There was one single interface at the front, where it was built into a rectangular beam that ran from the ceiling. Beneath it was a tray with a slot above it, presumably for printed documents, and a table next to the beam. Clint went on, and Natasha knew that Clint really wasn’t exaggerating in any way about Senja’s abilities when the file that came up was marked with the highest degree of security. Of course, Clint could clear it – he was the one put the case, but Natasha saw his fingers leaden and slow as he approached the actual document itself, as if he didn’t want to go back there again. Back to her again.

The file printed had all the information on the bottom, so Natasha couldn’t see the information as it was printed out and filed into the tray. Clint pulled a binder jacket from a box on the table, and put all the paper into it. He looked at Natasha with almost an apologetic look before he handed them over.

Natasha took it, but Clint didn’t let go. He put a hand on Natasha’s gently. Natasha almost felt him trembling. “Tasha, just think about this. There’s no going back once you know.”

“Once I know?” Natasha held onto Clint’s words, offering them back. When Clint took the hint, he let his hand fall again, and let go. Natasha opened the file, and her face was fine for a few pages as she scanned down for names and personal details. There was no photo, which was a bit strange, but Natasha put it up to basic invisibility training. She doubted there were any photos of her before she enlisted with S.H.I.E.L.D. too.  

 _Senja Ivankovic –_ What a nice name. Natasha felt like it was familiar, but of course, she had killed, met, and followed too many people to remember who exactly she had once bumped shoulders with, or had their names read out at a long tedious ceremony.

But then she arrived past the basic information about skills and personal details, to the history pages. The pages that contained what Senja did, what happened to Senja, what made this woman so incredibly important – deadly. Her eyes widened slightly and her reading speed became faster – he face almost translated horror and a bit of panic. Then she shut the file and slammed it on the table, and bit her lip.

“Tasha.” Clint tried after a few seconds of silence, and Natasha immediately turns and walks out. He didn’t try to follow her, he knew better than that. He took the file, replaced the binder jacket back into the box – waste not want not – and took the files to the far wall of the room. There was a attachment on the wall, like the return slot for overdue books at the library, and Clint slid the documents in there. As he lowered it shut, he heard the papers and the sound of licking flames.

He looked to the door and considered going after her now, considered vowing for his innocence and hers too; to try and convince her that it wasn’t her fault at all, not that was what she was worried about. But he didn’t know what she was worried about, and that made him worry. But he couldn’t he knew that, and at that second there was the sound of ringing. Then Clint realized it was his phone, and it felt strange, that there were people other than him, Natasha and Senja in this world. He pulled it out, heard it ring insistently again, and picked it up.

“Hello?”

“Is this Agent Clint Barton?” A voice said. Clint glanced at the phone screen, and it was definitely a forwarded call – meaning it had cleared through S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters first. It must be something important then, if they couldn’t even handle it themselves.

“Yes.” Clint finally answered.

“This is Head of security at J.F.K airport, my name is Rodney Herald. We have someone held here in retainment due to suspicions of handling dangerous weapons. The woman was cleared for takeoff, but we’ve attained her with several dangerous weapons. Did you ask her to bring you a …” There was a pause as the sound of things being arranged was muffled through the phone. “Bow, a bag containing supplies, and several weapons, as well as a quiver full of arrows?”

“Who’s this?” Clint asked.

“Rodney Herald, sir.”

“No, I mean who’s the girl?”

There was silence again, but there was very quiet and nearly inaudible talking.

“She says Jane Foster.”


	21. making the same mistakes

“Natasha?” Maria asked, nudging at the door, which was ajar. Natasha sat inside at a table, silently polishing something inside a cloth. Maria couldn’t exactly manoeuvre around with two babies in her arms, so she had borrowed one of the mail trolleys from the boys downstairs. The babies fit snug inside and had fallen asleep long before Maria had even begun to look for Natasha. Their eyes were closed and their fingers were wrapped tight around themselves, their small arms curled.

“Maria.” Natasha said, and placed the cloth and object on the table. Maria saw a handle, and a shine from a corner that had become uncovered.

“Natasha,” Maria said as Natasha checked on the babies, and Natasha nodded. She was polishing a knife – one from the set she carried on missions. Small ones, deadly and something she’s known to use like an extra limb.

“You’re not going back, are you?” Maria asked.

Natasha shook her head and smiled – she meant it. “I was just thinking. Thinking about a thing, that’s all.” She said as she steered the trolley to sit next to her by the table, and she sat back down.

“What’s wrong?” Maria said, not moving from her spot to leave.

“It’s nothing.” Natasha said, picking up the knife again. Maria was still for a second, but then she decided and took a seat opposite Natasha.

“No, Natasha, what’s wrong?”

Natasha’s expression as unreadable, but her tone was. “It’s nothing.” _That you need to know about_.

But Maria had grown attached to the babies, and even more to the mothers, especially during the pregnancy. She felt as if she was responsible now – both the fathers were heroes, basically. They couldn’t always be there for the babies, or the mothers, and she felt responsible now, on some levels, as _Aunty Maria_.

“Please Nat, just tell me what’s going on. Maybe I can help?”

Natasha chuckled sadly. “You can’t help, Maria. And the only person who can is dead.”

Maria stiffened at the last word. “So there is something. Who’s dead?”

“I’d prefer to keep this business private, Maria, if you don’t mind.” She wasn’t angry, but she wasn’t budging either. Natasha Romanoff wasn’t going to just give in so easily.

“Nat, please. You’re a mother now, you can’t keep it all inside anymore.”

“You watch me.”

“I will, Nat. Because you have babies now, Nat. Children. You’re experiencing more love than you’ve ever felt before for any other thing ever in your life, and it’s no longer possible for you to retain all that worry and pain and not have it destroy you.” At this Natasha’s eyes darted up to meet Maria’s. “Please Nat, just tell me what’s going on?”

Natasha held the eye contact after Maria had stopped speaking, and she held it, and held it. Maria didn’t yield either, because she knew the worst was over, and Natasha would understand.

Moving only her lips, Natasha finally decided to rely on someone who wasn’t Clint.

“Clint’s asked me to marry him.”

Maria had an internal struggle – she wanted to be happy, but she could tell this wasn’t the case. “And?”

“There was someone else before me, and he picked me.” Natasha said.

Maria frowned. “I think I’m a little lost.”

“There was someone else before me, and he picked me. Because he loved me. Because he loved me more.”

Maria hesitated slightly. “ … He didn’t … ?” She let the words _cheat on you_ fade into context. She knew if this were the case, if she said those words out loud, it might just be enough motivation for Natasha to find Clint and break every bone in his body and cripple him for life in the most possible way she knew how. Which was probably a lot.

“Cheat on me? No.” Natasha said. “There was another agent before me, a woman. We were both up for transfer to a new life with S.H.I.E.L.D. He picked me. Because he loved me.”

“But,” Maria was confused again. “Isn’t that good?”

“She died. Because he loved me. That kind of sacrifice can’t happen again.” Natasha now finally understood what had happened when Clint had told her about Senja – why she couldn’t be comfortable with that fact; the fact that someone had died because Clint had loved her more. “We have children, and if the opportunity came that there was threat – if he was still in love with me like that, if he still allowed himself to make decisions like that – there’s a chance he’ll choose to save me over them.” Natasha said. “And I can’t let that happen.”

“Oh Nat, that won’t happen.” Maria said, relieved. She had thought something darker and more dangerous was playing at hand, given the way Natasha was polishing that knife, and how pale Clint was when she took the babies in a few hours ago. “They’re a part of him too, just as much as they are you. He loves them just as much as he loves you, as much as you love them, maybe even more. He’s not going to sacrifice himself for anyone, okay? That opportunity is never going to arise, and you don’t need to worry about it.” Maria said.

Natasha didn’t say anything, she just let one of her hands dangle over the edge of the trolley because Elsa had woken up, with her curious blue eyes watching her mum, and she was playing with Natasha’s fingers. Natasha smiled.

“Let’s hope so.”


	22. Rescued but stuck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oKAY WELL NOW IM JUST MAKING UP AIRPORT RULES YEP OKAY BEAR WITH ME GUYS

The security guards at JFK required a lot of ID, which Clint resented. He was used to people at S.H.I.E.L.D. knowing his face, or having heard of him, or all he had to do was flash his tagged card. But in the real world he wasn’t supposed to be flashing his identity to every second person. Especially not petty airport security guards.

They let him into a stereotypical interrogation room, and then seconds later brought in another man. The man brought with him a bunch of files, and his head was sweating obscenely. His greasy hair hung limp in front of his eyes, which he kept flicking back. Clint grimaced as he heard water splatter somewhere.

 “Hello Mr …” He wasn’t Rodney Herald, his voice was too squeaky. He had to check a paper for a name. Clint knew he was bluffing, trying to make him feel unimportant. “Barton.” The man managed to smile. Clint didn’t smile back, which dulled the man’s smile a little. He cleared his throat. “I have retained a woman called Jane Foster. She said that the weapons belonged to you, and that she was simply trying to return them.”

“Yes that’s correct.”

“Do you understand that this kind of action is a direct violation of several of our laws and rules?” The man said, smugly.

“I do. Does she?”

The man was caught off guard by his response and stuttered a little. “Ob-obviously not.” He chuckled nervously. He had expected Clint to buckle and become anxious of consequences, like all the other snivelly people who came in; pathetic. But he had underestimated a – in some ways – federal agent. She was his colleague, after all, and he had expected the man to defend her.

“Well, we can’t give you those weapons back today.” He quickly said, as if he was trying to obtain, or already had, the upper hand again. He grinned a little bit, and wiped down his slightly perspiring forehead. Clint stood, which frightened him into jumping in his chair.

“That’s fine. Just give me the girl.” He walked towards the mirror behind the man. “Jane, come on. We’re going.” He said.

Behind the mirror, Jane looked to the security officer who was with her, and slowly reached for her coat.

“Wait, but –“ The man sent into interrogate and break Clint tried to say.

“It’s not legal to retain people if you already have the illegal substances or objects they carry – in this case, my bow and pack. So you can either give me my stuff, or the girl.” Then he leant in and chuckled. “Now seeing as how you –“ at this he made air apostrophes, “ _can’t give me my stuff back today_ ’, I’ll take the girl.” Then he looked back to the mirror, as if he could see through it. “Jane, I said move it.” He said sternly, and then moved to leave the room.

The man just sat there, and as the door shut behind Clint, he turned in his chair and glared at the mirror. Behind the mirror, although he couldn’t see him, the security guard shrugged.

Jane jumped up and hurried to the door, and the police officer didn’t even try to stop her. He wasn’t even sure what had just happened.  Outside the room, Clint waited to meet Jane and collect her. She bustled out, constantly looking back as if someone was following her.

“Thanks,” She said, and Clint simply nodded. He began to walk briskly down the hallway, and Jane had to scurry to catch up. “But what about _my_ luggage? I had another bag – that was _mine_.”

Clint didn’t reply until they arrived at reception. An adjacent door opened, and a man came out carrying a small suitcase.

“Oh, thank you very much.” Jane said as she took it from him. The man nodded and said _ma’am_. He then turned and left. Jane smiled at Clint, but he still didn’t like this place. They went to leave, but he woman sitting at reception stopped them.

“Sorry ma’am, I just need to inform you that you cannot leave the country for the duration of a month.” She said, her bright pink lips moving minutely as she spoke.

“Sorry, what?” Jane said, then turned to chuckle at Clint. This can’t be right. “No, this can’t be right. I – I can’t stay here for a month, I have a job to get back to.”

“I’m sorry ma’am, but you cannot leave the United States of America until the weapons in possession are cleared and returned, which requires thirty calendar days, ma’am.” She said, politely. Jane looked to Clint for help, but he only shrugged.

“She’s right. There are no loopholes there.” Then he turned to the receptionist. “Is there?” He said, and Jane thought he was threatening her. But the receptionist shook her head. “No, sir.”

“No, but. But I only have a week’s paid leave – if I don’t get back by Tuesday I lose my job! It’s not that simple, I have to get back.” Jane said, looking between Clint and the receptionist.

“I’m sorry ma’am.” The receptionist said, and then looked back to her computer screen, and that was that. Clint gently guided Jane away from the desk with a soft _come on_.

The car ride back to Stark Towers was a bit uncomfortable. It wasn’t the silence, per se. It was Clint’s comfortableness that made Jane squirm a bit. He just started singing along to Elvis on the car’s radio, and his voice was good, but then he and Jane made eye contact, and he cleared his throat and grew quiet. So they rode on with Elvis proclaiming his love for a certain _lovely lady_ , and Clint kept shifting his hands on the steering wheel. He was fidgeting, but he definitely wasn’t comfortable, either.

Jane looked out of the window and tried to think about losing her job – it was a good job; it paid decent, had reasonable hours, and she loved and had a passion for it. But now she’s going to be stuck in New York. She sighed; just as she was getting used to the idea of quiet, too.

She sighed again as she thought of having Violet, Delta, Bells and Melrose under someone else’s command from now on. They were _her_ dogs; she trained them, and now they were just going to be given to someone else in the Institution to look after.

It wasn’t like she was ungrateful – Clint didn’t just leave her to rot in that airport holding room; he came, and he made an effort to get her out. And it wasn’t like she didn’t want to come at all – she could’ve just called S.H.I.E.L.D. and had someone from there come and pick up the weapons, which would’ve been cleared to pass quarantine. She could’ve even called Tony; no one can catch or condemn him anyway. But she had to come herself; she had to ask the imperative question that she’s wanted to ask for ages now, ever since _he_ left.

“Clint.” She said, and it was now Bon Iver singing on the radio. Clint looked at her out of the corner of his eye.

“Hm?”

“Do you know … Thor?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aLSO THose dog's names came from band names I happened to see as I was writing that passage - Violet, Delta, Bells and Melrose - don't they sound like pretty dogs? I think so.


	23. Settling in

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I should make it clear that this is post-Loki. I’ve heard a lot of people mention that Thor was living with them but I just wanted to make it clear that he wasn’t. He’s gone back to Asgard with Loki, if you’ll remember the ending to Avengers.

“There should be a spot, I think.” Bruce said, scratching his stubbled chin as he rifled through some documents piled on his desk. “I remember someone had retired a few weeks back – nice fella. They must be holding interviews for new candidates right now.” He looked at Jane. “What did you say you did again?”

“Astrophysics.” Jane replied. “Mainly astronomy.”

“Yes, that’s right. That should be perfect.” Then he looked up again. “What happened to your old job?”

Jane looked at Clint, who just looked away. “Let’s just say I had to quit it, due to unforeseen circumstances.” Jane said, and Clint cleared throat.

“Thanks for this, Bruce.” He said.

“No, it’s fine.” He finally found and pulled out the papers he was looking for, and handed them to Jane. “And you know, if you don’t get a job there you could always just work for me or Tony.”

The papers were application documents – it was a job with a group of astrophysicists in S.H.I.E.L.D. It said that if chosen the job wouldn’t actually start for six months. But Jane thought she could put up with that; she could explore New York, try and get used to all the noise and cars and planes.

“But I’ll have to clear it with Tony first.” Bruce said, crossing his arms.

 _Tony_. That rang a bell – hadn’t she known someone like that … at some point? She’s heard the name before, but where … where? “Tony?”

“Yeah, Tony Stark?” Bruce offered. Jane waited for her brain to give her something, but all it did was make her feel more like the memory was on the tip of her tongue, and she couldn’t grab at it. “Iron man?”

 _That was it_! “Oh! Tony Stark! Iron man –“ She turned to Clint. “Was he –“

“Yes. He was the lump of metal who carried me out of Austria.”

“Wait, he carried –“ Bruce said but Clint held up a finger.

“Don’t even.” Clint said, and Bruce sniggered a little.

“Yeah! Yeah I remember him now – nice guy.”

Bruce and Clint exchanged glances, and both promptly began to laugh - the guffawing was confusing Jane a little, but she didn’t say anything, and waited for them to settle down. Bruce wiped his eye under his glasses as if to wipe away a tear.

“Ah. Nice once.” He laughed, a few chuckles still shaking his body. “ _Nice guy_.” He hissed incredulously and began to laugh silently again.

“Come on.” Clint said as he wrapped an arm around Jane’s shoulders, still giggling slightly. “Let’s find you somewhere to stay.

Stark Towers was indeed impressively big – it did exactly what it said on the tin – but ironically, Tony had more than half the building incapacitated or occupied due to science equipments and experiments and cordoned off accident sites that Jarvis haven’t fixed up yet. There weren’t that many rooms for accommodation that wasn’t already filled up for people who visited often – two rooms were Clint and Natasha’s when they weren’t at S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, although Clint rarely slept in his own bed – it was mostly for his equipment. There was Bruce’s bedroom down in level 10, and Pepper and Tony’s bedroom were higher up – Pepper liked the view.

They had long moved out of their regular house – Tony’s experiments and collection of gimmicks had become too big for it, and there simply wasn’t enough room to put everything he had invented, modified or bettered. They also had two guest rooms put out for people who came over sometimes – such as overseas representatives that Pepper met with, and Steve.

“Maybe you could stay in this one?” Clint said as he opened the door to one guest room. There was no sign of life, but there were some belongings strewn across a table counter and a vanity, and there were clothes in the half-open closet. “Oh, I think someone’s got this room already.”

The bathroom door opened and Sharleen walked out of the steamy room in a towel, saw them, and grasped bits as if she was actually naked – she had a little shock, and maybe gasped a little bit, but she was very composed – way more composed than Clint. His eyes immediately dropped to the floor, but not before he squeezed them shut as if he was looking at an eclipse.

“Uh, Sharleen – sorry, I didn’t um … This is Jane Foster. Jane this is Sharleen – she’s Tony’s temp, um.” Clint said, gesturing between the two women.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Jane said, and Sharleen smiled a little and nodded, but looked a bit uncomfortable, and Clint and Jane couldn’t figure out why – it wasn’t like she was looking any dignity.

“Hey what’s taking so long?” Steve’s voice drifted out of the bathroom, and Sharleen kind of looked at them two sideways, with her mouth open, as if she was going to provide an excuse.

_Oh._

And with that Clint dragged Jane out of the room quicker than a flash of lightning with a flurry of _sorrysorrysorry_ , blushing furiously.

“ _Jarvis_!” Clint yelled as they got into the living room.

“Yes sir?” Javis replied immediately, as if he had been with them the whole time.

“I need you to find me a room that Jane can stay in, with no _people living in it already_.” He announced, huffed indignantly.

“Just one moment sir –“ Jarvis said, as silence ensued. Then, “I’m sorry sir, but the only other room available is the guest room Miss Potts has put away for overseas clients.”

“Does she have any coming soon in the next few months?”

“Not for at least 3 weeks, sir.” Jarvis reported. Clint sighed.

“Fine.” He turned to Jane. “You’ll just have to stay there for now, but don’t get cosy, you might have to have to relocate in 3 weeks, okay?”

Jane nodded. So it had taken them twelve minutes and extensive help from Jarvis to find a room for Jane, that and the unfortunate stumbling upon of Steve and Sharleen, which Steve was never going to be able to think about without getting embarrassed.

The room Jane was staying in was a rectangle bedroom with a large window facing the city. They were forty-seven stories up, and Jane could see dusk begin to settle past the horizon of the city.

“It’s lovely, thank you.” Jane said, pulling her bags in after her. There was the perfect view of a constellation that was coming into view that Jane could almost swear that she had never seen before.

“I’ll get Jarvis to do something about dinner, I guess you can just wander around him for a while – get settled in; just don’t touch anything.”

Jane nodded as Clint left. She turned back to the bed, and then the window, and sighed as she sat down on the bed. This was her life now, then. If she got a job here, with the astrophysicists of S.H.I.E.L.D. They were probably really nice people, and as Jane looked to the new constellation again, she reminded herself why she was really here.

She wasn’t here to return weapons, no. She knew that Thor had returned to New York, she had watched intently as the news of Loki finally reached Austria. But she also knew that she was too late, and Thor had gone back to his world. Again. What hurt her was that he didn’t bother to look for her.

_He’s gone back to Asgard with his beat up brother. Why, did you know him?_

It was probably for the better that they didn’t know her connection to Thor, although at some point she was sure Clint had caught on – _come to think of it, he kept asking to see a girl called Jane. But Fury told him he couldn’t; security protocols and all – I figured they should’ve let him, because then they wouldn’t have to rebuild R block_. He hadn’t prodded her for information, which Jane was grateful for – why would he anyway? She wasn’t important, and Thor was gone anyway.

It was probably for the better, she thought. Loki was loose and if Thor had gone looking for her Loki might’ve escaped and found her too. She just wished she could’ve seen him again, at least, while he was still on earth. If only he could come back again.

If only.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also to the person with whom I said the next chapter was going to be more focused on Tony and Pepper, I'm sorry! I meant the one after this! I just have to seal up ends and stuff so


	24. A needle through some wool

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bear with me with the hacking thing, god forbid I confuse you guys with ridiculous server bouncing system names!

“Sir, the inventory list has come back; it seems they did take something after all.”

Tony sighed and put the cup of coffee down on the table. “Was it what we think it was?”

“I’m afraid so, sir.”

Tony groaned and put his head into his armoured hand, letting the coolness of the metal soothe his coming headache. Or head injury. At this point all that mattered was that Tony remain conscious for the next three hours. There was a tap on his armour, and Tony peeked out from the red fingers. A little boy stood by his leg, grinning excited and gripping a napkin and a pen, obviously from one of the waitresses.

“Can I have an autograph Iron Man?” He asked, eyes bright. Tony gave him a tired smile and said _sure of course_. He was really looking forward to finally getting home, and getting the rest of the week off at least, because he would get to see Pepper, and stay with her now. No more running off to fight pirates, no more improperly accused prisoners of war needed rescuing, no more getting called upon in the middle of the night. He was going to go home, and lie curved against Pepper’s body until he fell asleep for the longest time possible.

The little boy held his prized napkin carefully, as if this was now his prime possession. He jumped up on Tony’s lap unexpected and gave his bulky exterior a tight hug. Tony knew it was tight because Jarvis had the courtesy to contract the soft inside of the armour – a new addition too to absorb more shock – so Tony could feel at least a partial of the hug.

“Thanks Iron Man. Keep heroing.” The little boy said with a huge smile, and ran back to his parents waving his napkin in the air. Tony sat back and took another sip of his coffee, letting the slightly musty taste settle into the back of his tongue.

“What do we know about the people who broke in?” He asked, and half of the face armour was placed onto his head, so he could see statistics and hear Jarvis properly and privately. Jarvis relayed some footage and photos, but there wasn’t much he could provide.

“Nothing at the moment sir, they’re surprisingly stealthy – even the two men Miss Romanoff, Miss Camerons and Mr Rogers had subdued had disappeared by the time they returned to the kitchen.”

“I’m gonna guess there’s no security footage.”

“I’m afraid I was still offline at that point. Anything I’ve told you about the incident was reported to me from one of the witnesses. This particular was from Mr Rogers.”

“You haven’t found the source of the hack?”

“It’s been set up in one of the old but highly effective Bermuda Triangle schemes – since the inception of my first attempted trace it has repeated the bouncing from the same 1174 servers 8840.7 times.”

“Oh, I’m familiar with the schemes; which ones?”

“The Venezuela, Angola, Norway and Democratic Republic of Congo –“

“Congo?”

“Yes sir.”

“That’s new.”

“Yes sir, like I said – it’s from one of the old schemes, but altered to be more effective and untraceable.”

“Interesting. Pull me up a list of all the accounts and their sources.”

“Some of the information isn’t available – many of the accounts have been offline for more than thirty years.”

“Well just get me the countries then.”

“They’re repeated in random order, sir.”

“Well just notify me when they’ve gone through all 1,378,276 of their damned combinations, will you?”

“Yes sir.”

“Right.” Tony said, exhaling deeply. “So one of the potentially most sustainable but unstable and untested energy cores has been stolen from right under our noses, and the government doesn’t know it exists or that we’ve created it, so if we can’t involve them, and on top of that there’s some invisible hacker enemy who’s fond of playing the classic game who has henchmen that can disappear into thin air.” He lifted the faceplate a few inches so he could drink more coffee. “Just the usual then.”

“Just the usual; sir, may I ask when you were planning on setting out.”

Tony shrugged.” I don’t know Jarvis, maybe when I say we do.”

“I think now would be a good idea to inform you sir, that there appears to be the beginnings of a significant thunderstorm heading our way.”

“What?” Now genuinely concerned, Tony let the face plate fall again. Sure enough, on the moving weather graph Jarvis had arranged, the white swirling lines were thickening, readily gaining on the red dot that represented where they were.

“How long do we have?” Tony said, getting up.

“Approximately 27 minutes, sir.”

“27 minutes? You waited until it was 27 minutes out to tell me?”

“Not exactly, sir. It wasn’t there 28 minutes ago.”

“Right, Jarvis, you’re paying.” Tony said as he walked out onto the car park.

“Did you want me to leave a tip, sir?”

“Just pay them the usual.” Tony said, and then with a tone that sounded like he was saying the punch line to an inside joke – “You know.”

“Yes sir.” Tony prepped his arms by his sides and took off, leaving a black blast mark in the car park by a red truck. Inside, the cash register lit up and beeped unmanned, and a waitress who went to check what the problem was covered her mouth as she gasped when she saw the amount left electronically for Tony’s coffee.

“Are we gonna beat it?” Tony said as he eyed the grey clouds looming in the distance.

“It’s going to be close, sir.” Jarvis said. “We could remain low, and ride it out under the thunderclouds, sir?”

“No. We have a better chance of staying straight inside. We need to be fast, and there won’t be any obstacles up there – no one will fly that high inside that.”

“For a good reason, sir.”

“We go through, Jarvis. I need to get back to Pepper as quick as I can.”

There was a slight pause that Tony didn’t know Jarvis was capable of, but then he responded, “Of course, sir.”

Tony knew they were picking up speed, and all he could think of was a needle through a piece of wool – a slim-line needle through a big wad of angry, grey wool.

Angry, grey, thunderstorm wool.

And then Tony remembered something that Jarvis had forgotten to mention, and something he should’ve been smart enough to remember, and he shouldn’t have been so distracted by the prospect of seeing Pepper again to have forgotten.

He was a metal needle and that was a thunderstorm he was going to thread through, and thunderstorms carry one particular characteristic that frightened little children and dogs which was always followed by something else that he wasn’t in a hurry to get acquaintanced with.

But suddenly, as if the cloud had sensed him and reached out to pull him in or he had teleported forward twenty minutes, the grey was all around him, and all he could hear was the rumbling of thunder.

“Jarvis, get us out of here!” Tony advised, as he waited for what was coming any second now.

**_KERRACK!_ **


	25. Making it back

The lightning forked right behind Tony, missing him only because the lightning hadn’t accounted for his forward trajectory. The light at such close quarters blinded his receptors for a second, even though the lightning was from behind, and then just as suddenly as Tony had entered the cloud, rain began to thud on the armour; big heavy rain drops bearing bad news.

And Tony, for only the third time in his entire life – the first being four and wanting a kid to build a proper pet – which coincidently became Dummy – the second time being by his mother’s bedside as she lay there sick and sleeping – prayed. He payed he would get home, to Pepper, and to their baby. He didn’t care how weak and stupid he must’ve looked – who’d judge him anyway?

The rain was thundering down and the sound was so loud Tony wasn’t sure this was even rain. There was the roll of thunder again, and a chill ran through Tony’s spine.

“Jarvis …” Tony said, somehow knowing that the lightning won’t miss him a second time – as if it was learning.

“Initiating evasive manoeuvres.” Jarvis’s voice was monotonous, and then Tony’s suit engine groaned as his speed dropped dramatically and flaps were deployed. The lightning flashed and missed him by an inch; directly in front of him. Tony thought he was just going to fly right into it though, but the suit burst to the left and then immediately to the right again as another strike of lightning narrowly missed him, as if it had been aiming for him.

Then the thunder quietened down, and Tony realized how hard his heart was beating, and he was sweating cold sweats and he felt like he was being stifled – he couldn’t breathe and each breath came in harder, thinner. The suit was locked down to avoid any wayward limbs attracting lightning, and Tony couldn’t move any part of his body. Just as well, because he felt like his entire body was shutting down and all of his muscles were giving up on him; if he was standing up he would’ve collapsed at this point – he wasn’t sure he could feel the good parts of his legs, and there were pins and needles down the bad parts. His mouth was completely dry and he couldn’t get a sentence out, all he could do was wheeze and attempt to comprehend the extreme level of fear he was feeling – it washed over him, and he was being dragged out further and further into the inky blackness where he was sure he would reside for the rest of eternity. The fear was nestled in his chest and it was pushing on him, pressing him against the suit, pressing with an urge almost as if the fear didn’t kill him now, the lightning would. He felt dizzy, and the vision feed from outside the suit was received as blurry and warped – Tony couldn’t feel his arms except for the tingles, he couldn’t move his fingers; it was all he could to keep breathing.

Tony was hyperventilating and he did not like it – he felt crippled with fear and all he could remember was flying into the portal at New York and thinking he was never going to come back again – and maybe he survived that just to die here.

“No, please, please no. No. Please no.” He began to whisper, because that’s all he could offer; soft pleas for help from a higher power. “Please, please, please God, no.”

But like all things, Tony knew a little about what he was going through – he breathed deep, tried to keep himself in control. “No, please no. No. No.” He continued, as he breathed in through the nose. Out through the mouth. In through the nose; long and deep. Out through the mouth; deep and long. Tony wasn’t aware how long he kept that on, but by the time he had summoned up enough courage to open his eyes again, Jarvis was still rolling him around the storm cloud, but Tony could see how frequent and common the lightning was now. They only chance they had was – “Jarvis, just get us out of the cloud!” He commanded, and the suit began to descend, still maintaining its sporadic path to avoid being targeted by the lightning – it seemed to be learning, learning the patterns the suit made, so Jarvis had to randomize the path, to hopefully give Tony a chance. Tony just concentrated on his breathing and the thought of Pepper waiting for him, and eventually they broke through the clouds.

Tony felt relief hit him harder than any wench lobbed with too much power or surface he’s accidentally flown or driven into. Tony saw the city rolling beneath him – he was only a few meters into it, with buildings still low set and parks here and there.

The suit weaved as it wound between the taller buildings, the sky scrapers beginning to loom and appear, taking the heat off him and attracting the lightning instead.

“Sir, are you okay?” Jarvis asked after a quiet second of flying.

“Yeah, yeah just unlock the suit, Jarvis.” Tony said, his voice still a little shaky and his mouth still dry as cotton. The suit unlocked and immediately Tony began to plummet, and Tony’s entire body felt heavy and weak, and his legs and arms were wobbly from the effort. Jarvis caught him in time and directed the suit to a safe altitude again.

“Sir?”

“It’s nothing. It’s … nothing.” Tony said, his breathing quickening just a little bit. “No, it wasn’t nothing. Jarvis, what the hell was that?”

“I do believe you suffered a panic attack, sir.”

“A panic attack.”

“An anatomic scan of your physical state while we were in the clouds indicates a panic attack, sir.” The full body scan showed how the heart beat rose, the general body temperature fluctuated – probably in hot flushes which is what made him sweat chills – and the muscle tensions that probably was the cause of his weak legs and arms. “Shall I fly, sir?”

“Yeah. Yeah do that.” Tony managed, looking down at the city; at the buildings milling past and recognizing what was perhaps the view he would've had when he fell back down from the portal. Eventually the suit arrived at Stark Towers, and as it opened – as each individual segment released to let Tony out – he fell out onto the floor, and felt just how heavy his own body was, and just how weak he was, physically. His legs were wobbly and his arms were tingly, but he managed to get onto his feet.

“Pepper.” He managed to rasp out, wetting his lips.

“Tony?” From inside, Pepper emerged from the hallway, wearing one of his business shirts and half a croissant in her hand – her face was curious, not expectant. But when she saw Tony standing there, bruised and battered and seen its fair share of the villainous world, she dropped the croissant and ran to him – as much as her pregnant physic would allow her to, and touched all of his bruises and cuts as she kissed him.

“Oh my god.” She said when they broke apart. “What happened to you? What's the point of the suit if this is still going to happen to you?”

Tony hissed between his teeth when she touched his forehead – so head injury then, not a headache. “That doesn’t matter, I’m here now.”

“Yes,” She smiled and kissed him again. “Yes you are.” She paused to look between his eyes, almost as if she could sense that something had happened just before he got here – almost as if she could see the panic attack replaying in his eyes. But she let it go, she let Tony’s mind at ease, she let it settle until at least next morning. She took his hand. “I’ve missed you so much.” She said.

Tony smiled, tired. “I’ve missed you too.” He said as he let his hand glide down the bump on Pepper’s stomach. She smiled.

“Come on, let’s get that looked at.” She said as she led him down the balcony back indoors.  “There’s so much you’ve missed out on.”


	26. The party

 “You look … Beautiful.” Tony said, flattening his suit.

“Are you talking to yourself?” Pepper said, walking into the room and fixing her hair.

“Maybe.” He said, looking at her in the mirror. Pepper walked to stand by his side, checking her make up in the mirror.

“You were talking to yourself.” Pepper said, smudging a bit of blush with a wry smile.

“Yes. Yes I was.” Tony chuckled and took her by the waist. “But you look beautiful too.”

Pepper smiled. “I do, don’t I?” The swathe red material slid over her bump, billowing to just above her ankles at the front. Tony wore a deep blue suit, cut thin at the waist and lined at the sleeves, which he was fastening with bright red cuffs.

They were having a party, because now Tony was officially off work until the baby arrives, and this ensured Tony’s presence at the birth; that and the fact that Tony just really wanted a reason to drink lots and sing karaoke obscenely. Everyone was coming, and almost everyone was bringing a date.

Aside from many S.H.I.E.L.D. employees Tony had invited – well, I say invited. He just pranced down the corridors of S.H.I.E.L.D. flinging flyers of the party around as if it was fairy dust – Natasha and Clint arrived first – for someone who’s just had two babies, Natasha was holding up well, and she still fit into one of her tight black dresses. She carried one baby and Clint carried the other. Pepper set up a small pen-like bed for the babies, so at least they won’t have to be left behind.

“They’re so cute when they’re awake.” Natasha smiled as she lowered Elsa into the crate, letting her settle down and gurgle a bit, waving her small arms. Clint handed her Senja tenderly, carefully.

“They’re cuter when they’re asleep. And quieter.” Clint said, watching Senja placed next to her sister.

“I can’t wait.” Pepper sighed, her hands resting on her stomach, almost as if she was sending the baby a message.

“It’s not the best – I haven’t been so deprived of sleep since Budapest.” Clint said, yawning.

“You and I remember Budapest very differently.” Natasha said, giving the peak of an eyebrow that sent blood into Clint’s cheeks and made him look away. Pepper decided to leave it at that, because she wasn’t sure it was her business and she wasn’t sure that she could save Clint from the embarrassment.

“But no, in all seriousness, they’re the best things to happen to me.” Clint said, letting Elsa grab his finger and shake it like a ragdoll. Senja babbled and laughed, and then Elsa laughed too. Pepper sighed again and looked down at her bump. _Any day now._

Next to arrive was Steve and Sharon – Tony still knew her as Stephanie, his temp, but everyone else knew better.

“Stephanie, wow you look great!” Tony said, already slightly drunk. He gave a curtsy.

“Thanks,” She smiled, just a little bit worried that Tony’s center of balance was too far forward and he would topple over. Tony revived from the curtsy and punched Steve lightly on the arm.

“Rogers! Who’d you bring?”

“Uh,” Steve looked to Sharon, who nodded encouragingly. “Her.” He managed a smile, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Oh.” Tony looked between the two of them. “Well damn, Rogers. I didn’t think you the type to be such a ladies’ man.” Tony winked, but didn’t smile; his voice didn’t match the joking mood, he sounded almost jealous. “Since when?”

“Uh, a few months, actually.” Sharon said, giving him a little smile. She didn’t want to upset Tony, especially not now that she had a reason to stay. But Tony was suddenly distracted by something behind Sharon, and both her and Steve turned to see what it was.

It was Maria, who had arrived with tall slender blonde woman. She was very beautiful, and her dress was almost like a shimmering vision to Steve. Oh, and the blonde woman was attractive too.

“Maria, who’s this?” Pepper asked, giving her a suggestive smile. “Please, introduce us!”

“Guys, this is Elleanor, Elle, this is the gang.”

“It’s very nice to meet you.” Elle smiled – she had a pretty smile, neat teeth.

“Tell us how you met?” Pepper said, smiling suggestively again.

“Um, well I was flying out of Germany after a job, and we had a seat next to each other on the plane.”

“Job?” Clint started. “You don’t …”

“No, guys. Elle’s a model.” Maria said, almost glaring Clint down.

 _Ah, a model, of course_ – Steve thought – _that makes more sense_.

“And anyway, she was just visiting her hometown. She transferred from Spain. Germany was just a pit stop.”

“You’re … you’re German?” Steve said.

“Yes, I am.” Elle said.

“You don’t … sound German.”

“No, I guess I don’t.” Elle laughed. Steve paused for a second in which his eyes narrowed and both Sharon and Maria knew he was going to say something to embarrass either himself or one of them.

“You’re not a Nazi, are you?” At this, everyone burst into laughter, which distracted them from Bruce wandering in, inconspicuously joining the group.

“Uh, no.” Elle said, bemused.

“That’s no how it works – oh dear. Come here, I’ll explain.” Sharon said, taking Steve’s arm and pulling him to one side.

“Hello?” Jane said, knocking on the door of the open elevator. She didn’t really know if she was supposed to come – Clint had just mentioned it to Bruce while they had a conversation, and Jane was there, but they didn’t mention her, or talk to her about it. But how could they expect her to just stay up in that room all day? As much as she loved that new constellation, she could only look at the same cluster of stars for so long.

“Who are you?” Tony said, frowning. “You’re not from S.H.I.E.L.D. Is she? Jarvis?”

“No, sir. She’s not with S.H.I.EL.D. But she does have permission to be here.” Jarvis replied.

“From who?”

“From me.” Clint said, stepping forward. “Sorry about this – she really had no other place to go, and she came to return my stuff, which is still at the airport under quarantine.”

“Yeah, uh sorry. I didn’t really know if I was supposed to come, and it’s sorta boring up there by myself.” Jane said, keeping her eyes on the crowd.

“It’s fine. Sorry we didn’t mention anything, we just thought it was a set thing and everyone knew everything.” He took one of his hands out of his pocket and ran it through his hair. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s fine. Really. I’m not really a part of … _this_ anyway.” Jane said, gesturing to the party, and her smile was a little sad, Clint could tell. He wanted to say something, to assure her that even if she isn’t now she will be, but before he could Tony clapped his hands.

“Okay well it seems like everyone who’s anyone is here, so let’s get started!” He said, taking Pepper’s hand and drawing everyone’s attention. “Gather around, I have a special announcement.”

Tony lead Pepper to the middle of the room floor, and turned to face her.

“Tony, what are you doing?” Pepper said, looking at the crowd around them, all watching rather intently. Tony sighed quietly, taking both of Pepper’s hands in his, smoothing the pads of his thumbs over the knuckles.

“My whole life, I’ve been told to better myself. I’ve been told to build better, to think better, to be better. I was sick of it – from my parents and then from the company. But then along came you, Pepper. You … you nagged me like no other living being on earth, and you nagged me day and night, and at one point I thought I had had enough, and that was it, and I was going to fire you, because I’d be damned if I take any more of this lying down.” Here Tony paused, and Pepper’s frown made it obvious she had no idea where this was going. And then Tony smiled; soft, happy.

“But the next morning I saw you, saw your smile, and I realized why I listen to you; properly listen to you, take your advice and scolding to heart, and really tried to be better. And then when I became Iron Man, I lived. I lived for seeing that smile again, every morning and every night. I lived because you, Pepper, are the best damn thing to happen to me, and you make me want to be better, and I’ll take all of anything you ever give me from now on lying down, for the rest of my life, because Virginia Potts, you are the love of my life, and my reason for everything. So, now I’m going to get on my knees,” At this Tony got down on one knee, with a wince that was probably a by-product of his injuries from the Caribbean, reaching into his jacket. “and ask you to marry me.”

At this there were gasps and murmurs and Tony was pretty sure he heard Maria whooping as he pulled out the ring. “And … hopefully you’ll say yes.”

“Tony.” Pepper couldn’t cry, couldn’t laugh, and all she could do was take his face in her hands. Tony got the cue, stood, and Pepper kissed him as hard as she could without pressing him against her stomach and putting pressure on it.

“Is that a yes?” Tony said when they broke, a little breathless.

“Oh god yes.” Pepper finally smiled, and kissed him again, letting him wrap his arms around her and smiling against his lips. People were cheering now, and Maria was undoubtedly the loudest. But amidst all this, no one saw Clint sought out Natasha a few people across.

No one saw them lock eyes. No one saw him give her a little lift of the eyebrow, a little tug at the corner of his lips, a little tilt of the chin, a little dip in his posture, as if in a question. No one saw Natasha look at him and smile. No one saw her close her eyes and minutely nod her head.

And no one realized that two engagements had been made that night.


	27. BONUS CHAPTER

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My friend and I heard this song and I couldn't resist! The song was 'I don't want to miss a thing' by Aerosmith.

And the orchestral music starts on the speakers, and Pepper instantly knows she’s made a mistake in letting Tony indulge in the last thirty something mimosas, and letting him near, no, even to have a karaoke machine for the night. _That was a dumb idea Pepper you should’ve seen this_ coming – “No, someone stop hi – oh god no.” Pepper says as she covers her face with her hands. Tony’s already climbed atop the stage, and he staggers to his feet, gripping the microphone pole for support.

“This goes out to my fi _an_ cé,” Tony slurs before the instruments fall down to let way for the singer to take main spotlight. “ _I could stay awake just to hear you breathin'_ ,” and Tony is horrifically off tune, and his voice is thick with drunk, his eyes fluttering shut with each high note. “ _watch you smile while you are sleeping_. _While you're far away and dreaming, I could_ –“

All the other S.H.I.E.L.D. members mysteriously dissipated when Fury left, which left the rest of the team, a karaoke machine and a heavily inebriated Tony. A very pissed Clint and very drunk Maria each had a turn on the stage, paying tribute to the Spice Girls and ACDC, with Clint totally embodying Scary Spice as he sang and Maria air-guitaring herself across the song.

“– _I don't wanna fall asleep, cause I'd miss you babe, and I don't wanna miss a thanggggg_ ,” Tony’s still going strong, except now the feedback from the mike makes Natasha leave, taking the babies. Pepper looks down at her own stomach.

“That’s your father up there.” She whispers, and the sound shouldn’t carry over the sound of Tony’s howling, but as if the baby could understand her, there were movements in her stomach, and then a kick. Pepper laughed. “No he’s not. He’s cool.”

“ – _for the rest of time, yeah, yeah, yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!”_ Tony’s screeching to hit the top note, and Clint leans on Bruce as he waves his phone in the air, like a lighter.

“This is beautiful, man.” Clint sobs, and he is honestly crying, still waving the phone in time to the music. Pepper takes all this in, and looks back down at her stomach. “Okay maybe you’re right.”

And Pepper tries to enjoy what’s left of her evening, as is everyone else, because Bruce, Sharon, Steve and Elle were laughing their heads off, and Clint was crying, and Maria was heckling and hooting, and Pepper smiled to herself, because she probably wouldn’t want it any other way.

 _Cause even when I dream of you,_  
the sweetest dream will never do,  
I'd still miss you babe,  
And I don't wanna miss a thing.


	28. Finally time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I took so long between the last chapter and this one! I had multiple exams, two camps and my birthday in between, so I'm sorry if I mad you guys wait really long. I hope this chapter makes up for it, though!

“Tony.” Pepper patted tony on the arm, and he stirred but he didn’t wake. “Tony.”

“…arity of the neutron flow.” Tony muttered, still asleep.

“Tony, wake up.” Pepper whispered, a little more insistently now, managing to prop herself up and swing her feet over the side of the bed. She had to get herself up onto her feet before she tried to wake him again. “Tony we need to get to a hospital.”

“Hm, what?” Tony murmured; drawled. When Pepper saw that Tony hadn’t even attempted to wake up at all, she sighed and stood at the foot of the bed with her hands on her hips.

"Tony stark you get up now because my water has broken and god forbid you sleep through your first child's birth I swear to god you will never have sex again!” Pepper said angrily, angrily enough to wake Tony.

He sat upright immediately, eyes struggling to open and limbs responding to the one word that could make Tony do almost anything. “I’m up, I’m up.” He said, yawning as he fumbled out of the sheets. “I’m up.”

“Hospital, now –“ Pepper said and immediately sat back down onto the bed as the contractions began. “Oh god,” She winces. Tony takes his cue and crawls over immediately.

“Hey, hey. Are you okay?” He asks, and Pepper manages to nod as the contraction passes. Then she slaps Tony in the face.

“What was that for?” Tony asks, and his tone was a dry _was that really necessary_.

“Are you awake now?” Pepper asks. Tony takes a moment.

“Point taken.”

It turns out Bruce was more-than-qualified in hospital finding, because he insisted they go to the one downtown he had found – “Just trust me. It’s closer than the hospital Natasha went to and I know the people there, I trust them.”

Natasha came as moral support, but Clint wanted to stay behind with Elsa and Senja. Tony, Pepper and Bruce got there first, where Bruce talked to some smiling ladies who obviously recognised him, and Pepper was taken to one of the top floors, where the rooms looked impressive, even to Pepper.

Pepper was quicker than Natasha when it came to getting prepared. Where Natasha took more than 7 hours, Pepper was fully ready by the time they got her set up in the room.

“You did this to me _.”_ Pepper growls, reaching for Tony’s collar and taking a fist full to rip Tony forcefully close, almost tipping him off balance. “Ton _yyyy–_ “ Pepper’s sentence ended in a scream as the contraction came again, and she grabbed Tony’s collar harder, enough to make Tony gag a little.

“Pepper, can’t breathe–“ Tony wheezes and as Pepper let go she grabs his hand instead and with an iron grip brings Tony to one of his knees by her bed. “Aa _aaa_ ah, Pepp _er_ – “

“Okay, breathe, Miss Potts.” The Doctor instructs, and puts her hands on Pepper’s knees to guide them open a bit more. “You’re ready now, and we’re going to need you to push.”

“Mrs Stark!” Tony objects from his twisted position on the floor.

“We’re not married yee _eeeet_!– “Pepper screams and pushes and Tony responds to the increased pressure by a _aah_ ing some more and writhing further into the ground.

“Okay good, Miss Potts –“

“Mrs Stark!”

“– ready to push again?”

“Shut up, Tony!” Pepper yells, and concentrates on pushing.

“I’ll be quiet when you stop disfiguring my writing hand!” Tony yells to match her volume and _aa_ a _ah_ he’s down again as Pepper’s scream deepens slightly with anger as she glares at him and digs her nails into his palm.

“… I can, see the head, good. Ready to push again, Miss Potts?” The Doctor asks. Pepper lets her head fall back onto the pillows to catch her breath and Tony objects again. Pepper smacks him soundly in the back of the head, along with a – “ _I’m not taking your name, Stark!_ ”

“Good! Good! You’re crowning!” The Doctor encourages. “Okay, we’re going to push one more time.”

“Pepper, honey, you’re doing great, but do you think you could just let go– “ Tony’s voice cut off in a whine as he went down again and Pepper pushed for one final time. Then there was the sound that both Tony and Pepper had been waiting to hear for the past nine months.

The baby’s wile was piercing and abrupt and not prolonged, but it was enough to let the doctors know that the baby was at least alive and well.

“Congratulations!” The Doctor smiled, adjusting her position so she could hold the baby up and let one of the nurses cut and treat the umbilical cord. They wrapped the baby up in blankets just as it began crying again. “You have a bouncing baby boy.”

Tony sat dumbfounded on the floor, still locked in hands with Pepper, who laid back on the bed, panting and managing huffy little laughs. She finally raised her head to take the baby in her arms as the Doctor offered him.

“Oh my god,” Pepper breathed, hugging the baby to her. “Hi.” She said to the baby, who immediately stopped crying, eyeing everyone curiously already.

“That’s surprising,” The Doctor noted, smiling. “Their eyes don’t usually open this early on.”

“Is it, is it bad?” Pepper quickly asked, but the Doctor laughed and shook her head.

“It shouldn’t be a problem, it’s just interesting, that’s all. I believe you would like some peace and quiet now, we’ll just be down the hall if you two need anything.” She smiled again and gathered the other nurses to leave. Neither Pepper nor Tony said anything until the door clicked shut and there was the comfortable silence between them two and their baby.

“Tony,” Pepper smiled, gazing at the baby. “Meet your son.”

Tony was still sitting on the floor beside Pepper’s bed, and he was staring straight ahead, not moving a muscle. “I’m a dad.” He breathed. “I’m – I have a son.”

“Yes, that’s right Tony.” Pepper crooned to the baby, who was still looking around. She looked down at Tony, and smiled. “You’re a dad.”

“I’m a dad.” Tony said audibly now, more incredulously.

“Daddy Stark.”

“I’m – I’m a _dad_!” At the last word Tony jumped up and fist pumped the air. Pepper stared at him, one eyebrow arched, until Tony quickly leant forward and kissed her on the forehead, and then the baby, more gently. “Hi, hey tiny Starkster.” He said finally to the baby, taking his son in for the first time.

The baby gurgled slightly, and waved its arms a bit. Pepper laughed and looked between Tony and the baby. “He likes it.”

Outside their room the half gang sat, again anxious, excited and chattering quietly amongst themselves. Sharon and Steve sat by each other on the plastic seats, Bruce paced about and Natasha stood reading one of the information posters on the wall – it was about the process of conceiving a baby.; she had never learnt about that, after all.

The doctors and nurses all filed out of the room, and politely asked the group to wait until the mother and father were ready to go in. So the ground once again had to sit back down, buzzing amidst their own excitement and nervousness. It wasn’t for another twelve minutes – Natasha counted – that Tony came out and silently gestured for everyone to come in with a smile.

When everyone entered, Pepper was lying on the bed with the baby boy leant against her chest, and she smiled and waited for everyone to fit into the room. When they all gathered, Tony shut the door and moved over so he was back next to Pepper. He took her hand.

“Guys, I want you to meet Jethrow Stark.” Tony’s eyes smiled. “My son.” He said.

 


	29. The message

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There may be triggers to people who have panic attacks here!

Jethrow Stark was somewhat of an oddity – he was basically a split between his parents. He had his mother’s ginger hair, but his father’s wild strands. His eyes were Tony’s chocolate brown – well, hazel until he was three – and he had Pepper’s freckles, especially on the bridge of his nose.

Given the fact that Tony thought ACDC was proper lullaby music and leaving Jethrow with Dummy less than three feet from an unmanned blowtorch counted as _yes someone’s watching him right now_ was enough incentive for Pepper to stay with Jethrow twenty four seven. Tony was feeling a little bit neglected, given Pepper spent more than half her day caring for and nursing Jethrow.

Jethrow developed faster than the twins – he began to crawl and laugh and point to things at the same time as or even before Senja or Elsa, the hint of the Stark ingenuity and Potts brilliance shining through. It wasn’t that Clint or Natasha weren’t as smart – it was just that they were smart in more applicable ways, in that perhaps they could kill you before you moved a finger, they could convince you of anything,or that they could master a skill as long as they worked for it. Clint and Natasha’s skills showed through with their babies in instances later in life – near death instances.

Jethrow’s was first with his first word – at nearly six months old he had pointed at one of Tony’s experiments and said _niution_. Of course, Tony concluded that Jethrow had been trying to say the word _neutron_ , and that was the first inkling that Jethrow was going to follow in Tony’s footsteps. Pepper wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

Senja was next with the word _Alba_ at seven months. Natasha had just returned from a recon mission in Alba, and Natasha smiled when she heard it because she knew where Elsa had picked it up from – Clint must’ve mentioned her a lot while she was away.

Elsa was last at the beginning of her eighth month – she took the longest, but the outcome was probably worth the both the waiting. Both Clint and Natasha were out on their first proper mission since the twins were born, and the girls were left under the care of Pepper and aunt Maria. Maria was playing with Jethrow, who had tried to take apart one of her communicators with a found screw driver and had gotten quite an electric shock. She was soothing him as he was crying, and Elsa had pointed at him and said _не плачь._ Of course, neither Pepper nor Maria knew what the hell she had said, that is until Jarvis chirped in and translated it for them.

“She said _don’t cry_ in Russian?” Clint said, eyebrows raised as far as they could go. They had just returned and he yelped as Natasha pulled the bandage tighter around his wrist, bracing it.

“That’s correct, sir.” Jarvis backed Maria up. Maria shrugged and nodded her head, looking sheepish.

“She said _не плачь_ exactly?” Natasha said, adding cleaning alcohol to the swab to clean the cuts on Clint’s face. “Same pronunciation?”

“Perfect Russian, Miss.” Jarvis said.

“I’m going to hazard a guess and say she picked it up from you?” Clint murmured and kissed Natasha’s temple when she had to reach around him to wrap the bandage around his abdomen.

“I guess I speak in Russian sometimes to the babies.” Natasha admitted, and Clint scoffed.

“Are you kidding? I don’t understand her half the time.” He said to Maria, pointing to Natasha. She hit him and he lost for his breath for a second, and Pepper laughed from across the room.

Apart from his proper Avengers duties, Tony had been working on the side project of finding out just who it was that broke into Start Towers that night.

“How can they leave no trace, Jarvis?” Tony said one night when there was more coffee than blood in his veins, and his hair was rumpled from running his hands through it so many times in so many different directions.

“I do not know, sir. Would you like me to try to triangulate the coordinates we got out of the Stansley Codac?” Jarvis said. Tony waved one of his hands around and then pressed his fingers into the bridge of his nose.

“No, no it’s … it’s fine.” Tony sighs, and he wheeled himself back to a black desk where he picked up his mug. He downed three scolding gulps, and then looked back at the holographic data set up in the middle of the room. He wiped his hand over his face and gestured to the empty air. “Okay give it to me again.”

“Well the IP addr-“ Jarvis began, but then his voice became disrupted and garbled, and there were several glitches attacking the data.

“Jarvis?” Tony said, suddenly sitting up, looking around at the malfunctioning software. “Jarvis!”

“IP ad – IP ad – sic – pro – te – p – p – I – address – add – ad – P – I-P – I-I-I –“ Jarvis was stuttering, and the holograms were shifting and glitching, and suddenly  the blue data flashed red. Then back to blue. Then iris splitting red and reverting to calming blue again.

Tony immediately jumped up and was running around to access the Stark mainframe manually, flipping switches and tapping keys to try and get into the frozen system. The dead system. Suddenly the lights all grew to a piercing bright that made Tony squint and shield his eyes, and simultaneously died in an instant, leaving Tony with only the dark glow of the light in his chest.

“Jarvis?” He whispers, and there was the clang of something metal landing on the ground. Tony suddenly felt scared, because no matter what he did, he couldn’t gain access to any light or control anything down here without electricity. He could only make out as far as he could reach with his hand from the dull blue glow, and with Jarvis offline, Tony felt his chest grow tight, and all he could think of was how the dark was so akin to the dark of space, where you’re trapped, and no one could hear you.

He froze and began to hyperventilate, his body trembling uncontrollably. His knees caved as the muscles in his legs began to spasm, and he lowered to the floor from his chair, clutching at his chest, as if that would get some more air in. Because he couldn’t breathe, and his mouth was like cotton, and he couldn’t breathe, and he couldn’t breathe, and he couldn’t _think_.

Paralysing fear.

Gasp. Gasp. _Gasp_ for air, and Tony looked around in the dark room and couldn’t see any comforting sign to reassure him, all he saw was swimming black, and he thought if he yielded now it could all be over. If he died now it would all be over, and he wouldn’t have to deal with it anymore.

It was Pepper – she came down the stairs, and Tony could only _just_ hear her on the edge of her mind. “Tony? Tony what happened?” The snaring brightness of her flashlight hit Tony for a brief second and his pupils contracted violently, bringing him gasping back into reality.

“No, no!” He began to shout, and to Pepper it was muffled wails. She hadn’t spotted Tony yet, but she knew he was in there.

“Tony?” She tried the door, but there was no reaction – it was just a thick glass barrier between her and Tony. “Tony!”

Tony was dimly aware of the fact that his breathing was back under control, and he dragged in lungful gulps of them, struggling to get his limbs to cooperate.

It’s okay, it’s okay, he thought to himself, this can’t get worse.

 _I’m okay_.

And then it got worse, because the data flared back up again, except this time it was a jumble of glitches, and the rapid fire of images that stopped on one message, and message it was, because it was four words, and underneath three pictures.

Pepper saw the message and screamed, because no one had ever seen the children before, especially not that recently or as closely as in the pictures and the four words in red put fear on her heart like someone had reached in and clenched around it. Then as soon as the message appeared, enough for the two parents of one child in one of the pictures to read, the message disappeared, leaving Tony and Pepper in the dark apart from their own lights, but it was like the message was still floating in the air, threatening and clear in the meaning that neither parent missed.

 _They’re not safe anymore_.


	30. Second attack

The two orphans finally belonged – the circus freak, the sharpshooter, the smart ass who no one had thought would amount to anything, not really; and the killer, the liar, the archaic experiment who defied her masters and learned to think for herself in hopes of redemption. They were the odd ones out; always have been. But somehow together they fitted better than anything and always will.

Clint would sometimes see Natasha with either Elsa or Senja on a hip, and his heart would warm. This was his family – he Clint Barton, finally belonged; had something, someone to belong to. Natasha never knew she didn’t belong, not really. She accepted the fact that hatred spawned from her actions – she was bred to kill, and somewhere along the line she had come to accept that. But it was the little things – like how she didn’t mind waking up to feed and take care of the babies, or how sometimes one of the girls would do something and she would see herself in it, or Clint. Or how some nights when she wanted to stay up late to read, or simply because she couldn’t sleep, she could feel something soft settle into her bones when Clint started snoring. That was Natasha belonging – that was as close to her belonging as she could get; she was home.

That was why when the lights suddenly broke down with a fizzle and Senja started to cry, Clint picked her up and patted her soothingly on the back, shushing his daughter, and both parents unconsciously placed the three children between them; to protect their family.

“What was that?” Clint asked, his voice quieter once he had gotten Senja to stop crying. Senja cooed slightly, her small fingers clutching at Clint’s collar.

“I don’t know.” Natasha said, and then in a slightly louder voice – “Jarvis?”

There was no response, and Natasha’s fingers flexed out of habit, aching for a weapon in her hand. Elsa crawled into a sitting position beside her mother’s leg, and hugged Natasha’s calf, pressing her cheek to it. Natasha looked to Clint and gestured for Senja to be passed over. She hugged her tightly, and then set her down on the floor beside her twin. Jethrow, wanting attention as well, crawled over and tucked his face between the two girls.

“I love you girls,” Natasha whispered, because something in her stomach told her that she should let them know now, lest something happens. She kissed her daughters each on the forehead in turn, and then one on Jethrow’s forehead, to which he smiled and gurgled a little. “You too, Jet.”

There was the heavy clunk of something metal landing on the carpet and rolling across, and Clint only managed to yell out _flash g_ – before the white explosion roared over his voice and took the word _grenade_ out of his mouth.

The flash blinded Clint, but not Natasha, who had her back to the door and was facing the baby. That was why when the uniformed man tried to swing some kind of weapon, indistinguishable in the dark at a disorientated Clint, Natasha instinctively turned, tripped his legs out from under him and sent a knee into his stomach, knocking the wind out of him. He wasn’t the only one though, because there was the sound of more boots, and Natasha didn’t have time to figure out if they were surrounded or not. All she could do was flip the coffee table in the lounge room onto its side in front of the infants, so at least they were protected to _something_. She tugged at Clint’s arm, and he groaned and blinked, rubbing his eyes.

“There’s more, Clint.” She whispered, and Clint instinctively got down to a crouching position, beside Natasha.

“There’s – gun, drawer, TV.” Clint murmured, and Natasha crawled to the cabinet, just as the door to the emergency stairwell opened, but none of them had guns, for which both assassins were grateful. The first man to exit the stairwell took a bullet to the knee and went down with a guttural groan, and as the rest of the men saw Natasha in the darkness, a distant and slightly muffled scream distracted them.

The first thought Clint had was _Natasha_ , and then vaguely realized it was Pepper. Natasha couldn’t afford brain cells to worry about the scream, because she had to empty the entire cartridge to prevent any of the men from reaching her, and then as she cautiously got up to step around the bodies, she paused, crouched to touch something on the floor, and then looked to Clint.

“I think you’d better see this.” She whispered, and Clint, still rubbing his eyes but having regained the ability to distinguish shades, at least, crawled over.

Natasha pressed a finger to the gunshot wound in one of the bodies, and even in the darkness, her finger came back the same colour as it went in. Clint looked to Natasha and frowned.

“There’s no blood?” He asked. Natasha shook her head.

 “There’s no blood from _any_ of these bodies.”

Clint paused as he looked around at the men, lying in different positions on the floor, each with at least one bullet hole. “What _are_ they?”

“I don’t know but I think we should get them to Bruce or T–” and there was a groan that drew Natasha’s attention instead, where the man who Natasha had knocked unconscious first was now waking up. Natasha leapt up from her position and pounced onto the man, straddling his chest and pinning him to the ground. She punched him once, striking and aiming to break but not to kill.

“Who are you?” She asked, her voice low and menacing and Clint shifted around them to check on the children, their cries now more obvious to the parents.

“Sh, it’s okay,c’mere.” Clint murmured as he picked up Senja, who was bawling again. Natasha glanced at Clint, behind the table, and as the man under her left her peripheral and attention there was the shifting of weight under her as she suddenly rested on the ground, and as Natasha looked back to the attacker she was on top of, and she thought it was strange, almost as if –

 _The man disappeared_.

But it wasn’t just him, and Natasha couldn’t understand how it happened, how the man _literally **disappeared**_ from right under her. She could sense it – the disappearance, the other bodies were probably gone too. She looked to the elevator and sure enough, there was no blood, and _no bodies_.

“Tasha?” Clint asked, and Natasha looked back at him – he had been looking at the ground where the bodies were too, and as his gaze shifted back, Natasha recognized an emotion she hadn’t seen in a long while. “Where did they go?” He asked, voice surprisingly steady, and Natasha could see just how confused and _scared_ he was. Natasha wasn’t supposed to be afraid – she wasn’t afraid, ever. Natasha didn’t answer, she _couldn’t_ answer, because honest to god she –

She couldn’t say it, she couldn’t even think it. If she didn’t even have an inkling then it would just confirm Clint’s fears, that they have less chance against these … _things_ than they have ever had against anything.

“Tasha,” He tried again, and his time Natasha didn’t look at him as he repeated himself, gently, still hugging Senja to him. “Where did they go?”

She frowned and tried not to let her voice waver. “I don’t know.”


	31. Bigger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so the hiatus between this chapter and the last chapter has no excuse, and I do sincerely sincerely apologise, but I'm actually going to finish this, I've set my mind to it. So have no worries, I have great plans for this :)

“Your reflexes are fine, there shouldn’t be any lasting damage.” Bruce murmurs as he waves the small flashlight between Clint’s eyes, adjusting his eyelids so he won’t blink at an inopportune moment. Clint’s pupils contract and dilate at a relatively normal rate, so there shouldn’t be any hindrance on Clint’s vision.

Clint groans and rubs his eyes after Bruce completes the examination and moves away.

“And there’s no trace?” Tony asks Natasha, who has her right hand splayed under a large holographic microscope of sorts.

“No. No bodies, no blood; not so much as a hair.” Natasha replies, and her fingers twitch instinctively when there’s a small flash, like a camera.

“Tony, I can’t figure out how this could be possible.” Bruce says as he packs away the flashlight. Tony sighs and leans back in the chair, burying his face in his hands. “What is it?” Bruce asks.

“It’s – it’s not possible at all. No. There are no bodies or traces of evidence and that means holograms, or false projections, or _something_ logical, sure. But these –” He leans forward and takes Natasha’s hand to show Bruce, inadvertently pulling her across the bench. “These bruises are _real_ , and despite the fact that sure, these are regular bruises you can get from a fist fight, you _can’t hit a hologram._ Or a projection. Or anything logical and this just _doesn’t make sense_! I mean she –” He turns to Natasha. “– you pinned him down, and you felt him. He was real, right?”

Natasha nods. “As far as I could tell.”

“But then it disappears – and I’m saying _it_ because I have no **_bloody_** idea _what_ they are, and that scares me. It scares the hell out of me, because we could barely protect our own children today, and Jarvis is gone –” and Tony’s rant finally rams into a halt, and Tony’s exhale is shaky. Everyone in the room remains quiet as Tony looks between spots on the floor, as if trying to find the word to continue. They all understood his pain – they were there minutes before down in the lowest levels of the Stark Towers basement, watching Tony desperately work each of the buttons on the large hard drive, all the while knowing that Jarvis – as a system – was dead; the entire memory bank erased from the hack. And they watched tony toil for a good twenty minutes, all the while murmuring softly – _come on buddy, don’t leave me alone_.

No one really knew why Tony was so desperate for contact, for a sign that Jarvis was still somewhere, just dormant and waiting to be woken up. No one knew that Jarvis was the first real invention for Tony – even before Dummy was just a small construction plan at the back of Tony’s mind. Sure, it was a preliminary version in which Jarvis sounded vaguely like Robocop and could only understand simple words with clear vowels and consonants like _hello_ and _thank you_. But he was still Tony’s proudest creation, and since age 12 – his best friend. Jarvis was there for Tony when his dad wasn’t, Jarvis was there when none of his other experiments worked out the way he wanted to, and Jarvis was there through Tony’s entire career, being the only friend who could remain unbiased and keep Tony on track until Pepper fell into his life.

Jarvis was the last line of Tony’s most secure defence and most treasured guardian, a sign that Tony was still safe, to some extent, because his oldest friend was there to protect him. But now Jarvis was erased, and Tony had never felt so vulnerable in his life.

Tony takes a deep breath and tries again. “Jarvis is gone, and I want to find the bastard who’s dared to attack us twice, dared to threaten our families and then not even have the balls to face us. I’m going to find them, and I’m going to erase them from the face of the earth.”

Then the intercom beeped – despite Jarvis’s absence, all the basic electric appliances such as the elevators and lights still worked, although Tony had to downgrade them to more old-fashioned base codes so Jarvis didn’t have to approve each command.

“Any news?” Pepper asks, and even though the visuals of the feed weren’t available because it’s too complicated without Jarvis, they could clearly hear the babies, gurgling and dropping things.

“No – not yet.” Tony says, and his voice is distinctively calmer than seconds before – like they were now seeing the eye of the storm. “We’ll alert you when we figure something out.”

The intercom shuts without a reply from Pepper, and Tony sits back in his chair.

“This is bigger than us now, you do realize that?” Clint says, frowning. Tony glares at him, but there’s enough doubt and hesitation in the gaze that Clint remains unaffected.

“What do you mean?”

“This isn’t just about us; grownups who can defend themselves. This has directly involved our children, and that makes it bigger than us.” Clint continues, crossing his arms and sitting back against the table. “We protect them even if it means we can’t protect ourselves, which means we are more vulnerable than most right now. Even with the amount of power backing us. You, for example,” He looks to Bruce. “can’t help at all. It doesn’t matter that you have some sort of control over that side of you, I think we all know it is just a risk we cannot take.”

Bruce blinks a few times, and then removes his glasses and cleans them on the corner of his untucked shirt. He nods. “Yeah, that’s understandable.”

“And there’s only so much guns can do against things that are just going to vanish the second they are defeated.” Clint looks back at Tony. “Like you said, it’s not possible, and yet here we are.”

Tony swallows and looks away, clearly unsettled by the idea of an enemy he simply cannot understand at all.

“Clint.” Natasha says, and Clint looks to her. Her expression doesn’t change, but Clint grimaces.

“I’m just saying,” He sighs, his entire form dropping a little. “We’re going to need bigger help.”

The elevator pings, as regular elevators do, and immediately Clint and Natasha are on their feet, ready. Tony swivels around in his chair and Bruce picks up his clipboard, as if it was the best form of protection. The tension in the room grows exponentially within the span of the two seconds it takes for the elevator door to open, because they’re all recognizing the same thing – the elevator is coming down, not up, and Pepper was below them.

The doors slide open, and Jane runs in, holding complicated looking machinery. Her mouth opens as if to say something, but she stops dead when she sees their expressions.

“What is it?” She says, and Bruce is the first to relax.

“Sorry, no – we just thought you might’ve been someone else.”

Jane’s face breaks in understanding. “Oh, right, of course. Sorry, I should’ve … called first.” She looks between Clint and Natasha, who are both putting away concealed weapons. _Okay then_. “It’s just – I think this is something you guys need to see.”

Tony holds a hand out for the equipment Jane is gesturing to, and she hurries over.

“Look, see how the patterns on this rowlandscale match the ones from two years ago? Same astronomical phenomenon, if you will – and the PohN levels are the same, the ionic power fused in the atmosphere; it’s all conclusive to one result!” She babbles.

Tony looks at her, and then at the rest of them. Bruce is the only one who shows a sign of recognition.

“You don’t mean …” He says.

Jane looks to him and smiles, a bright beam of happiness. “He’s coming back. Thor’s coming back.”


	32. Wives tales

“Make sure it’s exactly perpendicular to the ground,” Jane yells across the roof, trying to make her voice carry over the roaring wind.

“How do you know it’s him?” Tony yells back as he tightens a screw on the strange pole contraption that Jane invented.

“I don’t,” Her voice is small, but Tony hears her, and he stops to look. She doesn’t look back at him. “but it has to be. It has to be.”

Tony doesn’t make an effort to tighten the screw further, and instead gets up, walking over to her.

“What if it isn’t him?” He says when he gets to her, and still she doesn’t look up. “What if we’re just lying out a homing beacon for something worse?”

Jane finally looks up, and her eyes are full of conviction. “You looked at the data as well. Tell me it won’t be him.”

Tony wants to, but he can’t. He’ll admit Jane’s true on some levels – the data is almost identical to the data Jane had shown him when she was first added to the S.H.I.E.L.D. team – the data she collected the first time Thor came to earth. Given the fact that obviously many external variables were uncontrollable and were definitely different, and that Jane was in fact very competent at what she does, he doesn’t want to argue.

Jane glances at her watch. “Okay, it should be in the next few minutes.” She steps back from the metal pole standing up from the ground, and looks up to the sky. “Come on.” She whispers.

The wind makes the three poles standing in a triangular shape shake and wobble, but they stop short of snapping.

“Come on.” Jane says again, brushing the hair from her face. Tony looks up now, too, and he sees what looks like the eye of a tornado break in the dense grey clouds.

“Come on.” He hears Jane one last time, as the world suddenly flashes white, and the biggest gale of wind he’s ever felt buffets him, nearly throwing him back. One of the poles snap and is flung across the roof, passing Tony at an arm’s length. When he looks back, in the exact centre of the three – well, now two – beacons, there is now a shadow. But before he can rub his eyes and actually get a clear look Jane’s running, and Tony doesn’t know whether to stop her or not because everything’s blurry and _oh ow_ there’s something in his eye.

Then when he can actually see properly, he looks, and he’s about 190% sure that’s Thor. Although his hair’s grown and it seems he’s gotten taller, it was most definitely Thor, clutching his hammer with one hand and his other wound around Jane’s small waist. Tony smiled at the embrace, until he realized that it wasn’t an embrace at all and cleared his throat.

“Yeah, welcome and all that, but I don’t think I’m wrong when I say you’re here for a reason, Thor?” He says, and Jane breaks the kiss to look at him, sheepish.

“Sorry.” She smiles quietly, prying herself from Thor’s large hands, but she doesn’t let go of his bicep.

“Indeed, man of Stark, I come bearing grave news.” Says Thor, no longer smiling.

Tony sighs. “Then by all means, come in and we can swap wives tales.”

He turns and immediately begins to walk inside, so he misses the confused expression on Thor’s face.

“I do not have simple wives tales for –“

“That’s not what he meant, exactly.” Jane says as she begins to pull him inside. “Nice hair, by the way.”

Thor looks at his braids with a perplexed expression. “Thank you.”

Once everyone has seated, babies on laps and spare chairs brought in, Thor stands.

“My friends, it is true that I have returned to Midgard to bring you news of a new enemy.”

“Uh no, we’re not taking down another one of your cousins or great grandfathers. One crazy brother is enough, thank you.” Maria says, bouncing Elsa lightly on her knee. The baby gurgles, trying to catch her fingers.

“No, it is not a blood relative of mine, nor one of my adoptive brother.” Thor replies. “This enemy is from the old ages, when great terrors were spoken of as myths to calm howling children.”

“Sure, sure, but why are you here on Earth? We’re not going to Asgard, are we?” Tony says, leaning forward on his knees.

“I have followed the enemy and their ruin to this realm, and I have come to prevent further tragedy.”

Tony’s eyes narrow. “What kind of tragedy?”

Thor pauses, weighs Tony’s gaze in his own for a few seconds, and then twists the hammer in his hand. “In Asgard, we call them the children thieves.”

Maria’s grip spasms around Elsa and Pepper’s hand goes to her mouth.

“Children thieves as in …” Clint trails off.

“They abduct children from the villages and kingdoms, and they are never heard of again.” Thor says solemnly. “When the children are completely gone, they lay waste to the land before moving on to another realm.”

Natasha looks down to Senja and Jethrow, playing on the floor, and says quietly, “What do they look like?”

Thor frowns. “By accounts, they appear human. But we assume they are skin shifters, since they disappear without a trace when confronted and defeated, like smoke.”

Natasha’s jaw clenches visibly and Clint’s breath comes out in a heavy breath. “Like smoke.” She echoed.

Thor frowns further and takes an unconscious step towards them. “Have you encountered the children thieves already?”

Pepper grimaces and looks at Thor. “Can we not call them that? It’s a little unnerving, what with the two break ins already and the message.”

“Break ins?” Thor says, and Tony clears his throat.

“Yeah, Thor, buddy, you have a lot to catch up on – come with me.”


	33. The Warrior

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also a big shoutout to DarkessKnightStarLady for her voluntary and impromptu beta of all the previous chapters and this one! She picked up some pretty hefty mistakes haha

“… and now Jarvis is gone.” Tony concludes, his voice barely a whisper. In the silent hallway, away from the rest of the group, Tony, Thor and Natasha stand in the cold and harsh light of a bulb whose brightness is no longer regulated by the automated systems. Thor’s expression is inexplicable, but then he sighs.

“I am sorry this had to happen, man of Stark, I am sure the ordeal was perturbing.” He says, and places one large calloused palm on Tony’s shoulder. Tony seems to slump under the weight, and shadows are cast under his eyes. “But I was not lying when I said I had come to prevent further tragedy."

Natasha’s gaze sharpens. “You mean you know how to stop them?” 

The unsure look Thor has that meets hers doesn’t qualm the sick feeling in her stomach.

“It is nothing more than an idea, and I have no promise that it will work, Red Soldier.”

There is a flash in Natasha’s eyes, and her jaw clenches. “Don’t call me that.”

Thor considers this. “You are right. You are not a soldier, you are a warrior.” Thor says, putting a hand on her shoulder too. “Do not be ashamed that you have spilt blood. Being a warrior means spilling the blood of the enemy, not the innocent.” He leans close to her. “A warrior protects the innocent.”

Natasha’s frown deepens, and Tony looks between the two. Thor doesn’t seem to catch a clue with the storm clouds forming on Natasha’s face, and he continues.

“A warrior protects their tribe, at all costs.” Thor says with a small smile, as if he was presenting Natasha with a hard earned prize.

“Thor, buddy.” Tony cuts in, before Natasha’s expression becomes permanently affixed to her face, and she strangles their untimely visitor. “Why don’t we bring the subject back to something more relevant. What was it you were saying about the idea?”

Thor maintains eye contact with Natasha for a moment longer, as if he could convince her of the novelty of being a warrior by winning the staring contest, but then diverts his attention to Tony. “Like I said, it is nothing more than an idea, but I believe at this time, it is better than nothing."

Tony grips Thor’s arm, and squeezes it. “Buddy, at this point, if you know how to hurt those bastards, anything will do."

***

“From what I remember, the last time you brought something that shone because it was magic to this place, it set loose your alien locusts on our fertile city.” Clint quips as Thor brings out a heavily built container, and from the glass side, a clear blue light shone through. No one laughs, and Clint’s smirk turns into a rictus.

“Do not fear, Clint Barton, it is not a weapon. The Allfather has simply given me - ” he pauses as he opens the casing with a hiss, revealing a blue flat bead like a small hockey puck, “ - a component."

“What is that supposed to mean?” Bruce asks, more genuine curiosity than concern for how it will actually benefit them.

“The Tesseract, indeed, was a weapon, Science Man. But the Allfather is more interested in artefacts that will not pose a threat to these intruders. They seem to react less violently when approached by passivity, like the People of Findol, who lived peaceful lives. It was the Casket of Ancient Winters that revealed Loki’s true origins, however it is not only because Loki’s inherited dormant Frostgiant traits that the Casket could draw these traits out upon contact. The Allfather believes that there was a component of the Casket of Ancient Winters - a component that cannot be a weapon on its own - that draws out a being’s true form. He believes, if we could somehow wield this component and utilise it, we can bind and lock skinshifters in their true form.”

“So in other words …” Jane says.

“… We can kill them.” Natasha finishes.

Thor nods, and looks down at the component, hidden fro, sight but still shimmering in its container. Everyone seems to see it too, all except Clint, who appeared disaffected and skeptical. Suddenly Thor stands, picking up his hammer, as if it's customary to give no warning whatsoever. The container swings from his other hand. “We must leave the building now.” He says.

“What, why?” Clint says, perking up immediately. Natasha appears more alert, also, one hand finding its way to Clint’s shoulder.

“To activate the component, I require open space.” Thor answers, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Clint gestures around the large living room with minimal furnishings with a look of incredulous disbelief. “You have all the space you need right here, mate.”

“I require a larger area.”

“How large?” Pepper asks, running over the blueprints of the new renovated building in her mind, trying to find the largest open space. The training rooms, perhaps.

Thor looks out over the balcony for a beat, as if searching for a target. When he looks back, he points into the distance, over the city. “That large.”

No one knows what Thor is trying to point to for the first few moments, but Tony searches for the largest area with a solid colour, and his eyebrows rise as he finds it – “Central Park?”

“Nope.” Clint immediately snaps. “We are not leaving this building.”

Thor’s brow immediately furrows, his arm dropping. Tony and Jane also frown, but Clint simply looks over at Natasha. At first she doesn’t meet his gaze, and when she finally does, it looks like she’s ambivalent and struggling to find words.

“Tasha, you know I’m right.” Clint says, his voice soft, his expression apologetic. Natasha saw what that expression wasn’t saying – it wasn’t trying to say _I’m sorry, I was wrong to say that_. Instead, she read his expression with the ease of years in the force together. Instead, Clint was saying _I’m sorry that it has to be like this_ , and her heart aches because the thing she wants most is to say it back, to reassure him that she knew, too. She lowers her gaze, and when she looks up, she is sitting straighter, with more conviction.

“He’s right. We’re can’t split up, and we can’t bring the babies out into the open. Especially not now when we know that these kidnappers are not _of this world_.” She levels a glare at Thor, as if it was his personal offence to her. “We’ll be defenceless.”

“We’re defenceless right now!” Tony states immediately. “Do you think that taking out Jarvis was easy? It’s not! People have tried! I have tried! I ensured that it was impossible! It was manifesting, you know? For seven years now, the protective firewalls were simply manifesting; they were developing themselves. I don’t even know how to disable Jarvis if I wanted to. They’re not of this world, sure, but they killed him. Not just silenced him, not paused him, they _erased_ him. They destroyed him. They removed him from existence, and if we don’t give this last resort everything we have, _then_ it’s game over. We are not giving up right now, and if we want to protect our families, our children, we are going to take Big Foot to Central Park.”

He’s panting when he finishes, his face flushed from the exertion, but Natasha’s expression doesn’t change. She moves her gaze back to Thor.

“Do you understand now?” She begins, but her voice sounds frail, and the unfamiliar lilt of it makes goose bumps rise on their arms. Clint’s hand squeezes her thigh. “We have one chance at this. We will give you whatever you want. Anything you want. We will put everything on the line. You’re all we have. You’re our last chance. This is it, Thor. Help us protect our families.”

Thor twists Mjolnir in his grip, and dips his head, his gaze falling to the floor before returning to Natasha’s eyes. They are slightly red, and her jaw appears far tenser than before, but he nods.

“I will … Red Warrior.”

Natasha’s expression breaks, then. Her face closes in on itself and she turns her head to the side, even as tears begin to escape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the chapter I (sorta) promised! 
> 
> Also I will be posting the hiatus notice on every new chapter I post, just so new comers are updated on the situation :)
> 
>  
> 
> Hiatus notice:
> 
> This fic is going under constant hiatus because I have to sort things out in my personal life as a priority. Feel free to follow this story to get alerts for when there's been a development such as a chapter being uploaded and such, but other than that, I can't provide you guys with a definitive timeline, I'm sorry! Thank you for waiting and being so patient with me, I just don't really have time at the moment for much entertainment and self-indulging activities. I will post whenever I have time or inspiration.
> 
> I'm sorry but thank you very much if you do decide to stick around, perhaps you'll be rewarded in the future :)


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